


Consequences of the Truth

by phoenixreal



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Angst, Anxiety Attacks, Blackmail, Child Abuse, Child Neglect, Good Draco Malfoy, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Rape Aftermath, Rape Recovery, Uncle/Nephew Incest
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2013-11-30
Updated: 2014-06-27
Packaged: 2018-01-03 01:11:19
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Rape/Non-Con, Underage
Chapters: 8
Words: 48,156
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1063896
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/phoenixreal/pseuds/phoenixreal
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Harry's secrets are revealed in a more public forum than he would like.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Sneaky Snape Opens the Door

“Wait up!” Harry yelled as he ran across the grounds, seeing Hermione and Ron turn around and grin at him. It was warm and close to summer, and the trio was getting finished for the year.

“Harry, how’d you do?” Hermione asked, smiling at him.

“Great, at everything but potions,” he said grumbling the last. 

Ron laughed lightly. “Mate, I’ll never understand why Snape hates you so much.”

“Yeah, I still wish I could stay here all summer, even with Snape’s class it’s better than with the Dursleys.” he said with a sigh.

His friends gave him a warm smile. “It won’t be long until we’re together again, Harry! Just keep your chin up! I know those relatives of yours aren’t the nicest, but you’ve been through worse than a snarly uncle and cousin. Just keep Padfoot in mind!”

He knew that those words were meant to comfort, but they didn’t, not at all. They didn’t really understand. No one really did. At least he didn’t live in the cupboard anymore, but the tiny locked room wasn’t really much better. This was the end of his third year, and knowing he had a godfather was killing him. He had someone that cared about him. Someone that wanted him. Someone who didn’t come to him in the dark and do things from the time he was little. But he couldn’t tell them that. He couldn’t even tell Sirius that. He could never admit to those terrible things he’d done in the dark.

“I know what you’re thinking about, Harry, and it will be okay, he’ll be cleared and then you can be with him instead of those awful people,” Hermione said with a soft smile. He wanted to sneer and tell her to sod off, that she had no idea what he was thinking about at that moment.

“Yeah, I guess, but I’m not looking forward to it,” he said frowning, pushing down memories as deeply as he could. It really wasn’t fair that a thirteen, almost fourteen, year old had to endure this kind of torment. Between Voldemort, his stupid uncle and aunt, and everything it was just all too much sometimes. So much was expected of him. He was famous and didn’t want to be. He was targeted and didn’t want to be. And he was alone when he really needed someone.

“Well, let’s go!” Ron said and off they went, Harry put up his smile and pushed back the fear eating its way through his heart. He knew what had been promised. And he wasn’t looking forward to this summer. After the incident with Aunt Marge… He groaned to think of the way he’d be treated this time. His bones ached in anticipation, and he wondered how long he’d go between meals this time.

And so, there he sat, riding the train back with pure dread sitting in the pit of his stomach, praying to all the gods that he may or may not ever believe in and Merlin too that his uncle somehow had forgotten everything. He doubted it. It would be a long summer indeed. He almost could cry. Almost. But he didn’t cry easily. He was too used to pain and things of that nature. No, Harry Potter, the fucking amazing boy who lived, wouldn’t cry. Even though he was a scared little boy as soon as his feet touched the platform.

He said a morose farewell to his friends and headed toward the muggle world, hearing Ron call after, “It’s not like your dyin’, Harry!” He sighed and thought, If only you knew, Ron. Every time he stepped across that threshold into his personal hell, he died a little more. And he couldn’t tell Ron. Despite how close they’d become in three years, he still couldn’t bring himself to tell them what hells happened in that house. He was a wizard now; he shouldn’t be moaning and complaining about the past. He trudged out to see the whale of a man waiting for him impatiently. Well, he hoped it would stay in the past. Somehow he doubted it. Going to Hogwarts hadn’t tempered the summers at all so far, and he wasn’t sure this year would change any.

“Get in the car,” he growled as Harry did as he was told silently. “I’m not standing here all day waiting on your worthless hide.” He scanned the area. Surely a snake would bite him if he could find a poisonous one. Spending time in the hospital was preferable to what he would endure this summer.

At the door he was shoved in, and he locked his trunk and things into his old room. He’d enchanted the trunk to only open for him, he really didn’t want his things torn up, after all that trunk and Hedwig were all he had left. And the lock outside ensured that without his wand, he couldn’t get in either to get to his things. 

“Get up there. You don’t exist,” Vernon growled. Harry trudged up the stairs and into his room, closing the door and sitting down on the thinly covered cot. He sighed and heard the outer doors slam locked. 

Well, he could certainly handle that. Not existing was better than his other options. He sighed, curling his legs to his chest to watch out the barred window as afternoon dwindled to night. He heard Dudley go to his room, and then the heavy steps of his uncle and the lighter ones of his aunt. He was hungry but he pushed the thought away. He’d stuffed himself on the train for this reason. He knew that he wouldn’t get food for a while. And it would take a while for his body to adjust to not eating again. So, he pulled the thin sheet over him and shivered. He hoped that the door didn’t open again, not tonight. He didn’t think he could handle that tonight. Harry had never been very lucky, though. He was deeply asleep but came to wakefulness with a scream when realized he was pinned down again, his clothes already gone. How did he sleep through that?

“No!” he said with a choked scream as he felt his uncle’s hand wrap around his mouth, crushing his lips hard enough to bloody both. He felt the slick slide of blood down his throat and off his chin.

“This is what yer good for, remember?” the hot, smelly breath of his uncle came into his ear.

He wouldn’t cry, no matter what, this time he wasn’t going to cry, but then he did when the familiar and horrible ripping and tearing sensation stabbed through him up his spine and down to the arches of his feet. Something tore, he felt the blood fill his insides again. His hands were in a vice lock above his head, and he didn’t have the strength, even with all the Quidditch practice in the world, to shove the incredibly heavy man off him from this position, he wasn’t sure anyone his age could have. He couldn’t do anything but scream into the fat, sausage fingered hand crushing his lips. He couldn’t even bite because his lips would be the only thing to suffer for it. Finally he was done, the stinging release sickening him even more than the pain shooting through his lower belly. He lay on him heavily for a long time, panting, crushing the breath out of him. Maybe he’d suffocate like this and someone would realize what was happening.

The whale of a man stood finally, and he couldn’t move, he just had no strength. It was always worse the first week because he’d have plenty time to heal. And he’d spend the first week, here alone, without even his Aunt knowing what happened. Then after that, Vernon would still come into his room now and then, but later he was more careful to avoid leaving marks like the bruises on his face from his hand that he had now. And sometimes he was really lucky and only got beaten with the belt for whatever infraction he’d incurred for the day. And there was always something, something that he made Harry pay for.

“Nice ta see ya saved yourself for your dear old uncle,” he said with a menacing chuckle.

When Harry didn’t move, the belt came down over his back and down to his calves, leaving bright, red bleeding welts from shoulder down. He didn’t have the strength to scream anymore, the blood and stickiness running from him now enough to make him want to retch. But wouldn’t be permitted to leave the room yet, and he knew it. He still didn’t move, and his uncle yanked him roughly to the floor to plant a booted foot into his ribs hard, making a loud crack. He had the strength to moan and curl in on himself. That was about all he had.

“Until tomorrow, nephew.”

Harry made his way to the bed, knowing better than to remove soiled black sheet. He couldn’t ruin the cot beneath it with his blood, after all. And the black was to hide what happened from Petunia. He sniffed and cradled his ribs and pulled the light blanket over him. If he had his wand he could use a clean charm, but he was for one too young to use magic in the muggle world, and for two, his wand was locked up with the rest of his things. 

“Sirius,” he whispered. “I miss you so much…”

-Truth-

To say that Harry was glad to be retrieved by the Weasleys was an understatement. And even after everything that happened, Harry still would rather have been there than with his relatives. School resumed, and so did the tortures of dealing with one annoying potion master who hated his guts for who knows why. He sighed heavily slipping into his seat beside Ron and hoping the dark man forgot he even existed. He’d had a horrible summer and he was still not completely recovered from it and was sore in places he didn’t want to think about at the moment. The hard seats in Snape’s room weren’t doing him any favors on dealing with his uncle’s parting gifts even though he’d had a lot of time to heal with the Weasleys. He was sure the bruises on his hips were bone deep, even now they’d just faded to a greenish color.

And so the first few days passed as expected, and Harry was glad. But it was getting harder and harder to hold up his masks as those days went on. He found himself shying away from everyone more, flinching away from his friends even worse than before. They’d asked him repeatedly if he was okay, more than once in the first, no matter how he tried to hide it, they’d gained a glimpse of the bruises left from the night before he’d been picked up by the Weasley’s. It had been hard to hide in that house full of people, but he’d done his best. He’d still caught the glance that he’d gotten when Ron had caught him trotting to the bedroom with the towel around his waist one morning in the Burrow when he’d forgotten to take his clothes to the shower. He hadn’t said anything, but he’d felt the lingering glance.

How could he ever tell them what happened? He was so used and broken and dirty. If they ever found out, they’d leave him for sure. No, they could never know, no one could ever know. He knew the cost of his silence was going to be that he’d have to keep returning to that awful place. But he had his pride, what little of that he had left now. This summer had been the worst, by far. Punishment for what had happened with Aunt Marge and that mess. Just thinking about it made him go pale and cold as he was walking past the courtyard. A pain shot through his abdomen again, something he’d felt on and off since he left for the Weasleys, and it made him remember what caused it. He was sure it should have gone away by now. But it hadn’t. And he’d woken up the last few nights sweating and hot. He swallowed thickly and realized his hands were shaking quite badly.

“Hey Potter, what’s the matter with you?” a familiar voice said behind him, and when a hand clasped his shoulder, he jumped almost into the wall.

“Fuck, Potter, the hell is wrong with you?” Draco Malfoy said, his eyes confused by the strange reaction.

He shook his head. “N-nothing, Draco. N-nothing,” he stammered and tried to turn away from his blond nemesis. Just what he needed, to have this prat see him in his unguarded state. This wouldn’t have happened if he just had more control over himself, but this year it was really hard after meeting Sirius. Knowing there was someone who wouldn’t do those horrible things to him but would instead love him made it so much harder. He felt cursed.

Before he could move, his hand clamped over his bicep and spun him back around. “You look like a sheet, Potter,” he said, a frown creasing his pale brows. “You sick? You look like you have a fever.”

Harry could feel his body reacting to his touch, and he pulled away, trying desperately to mask his shaking by shoving his hands in his pockets. “I’m f-fine,” he said, and walked away, leaving a very confused Draco.

“What’s up, Malfoy?” Goyle’s voice said walking up from behind him.

“Not sure, but Potter’s acting weird,” he said, watching as the raven haired boy disappeared into the courtyard, casting glances behind him, and weaving so he walked as far away from people as he could.

“It’s Potter, he’s always weird,” Crabbe contended. “Spoiled little brat, remember?”

“Nah, something’s off. Really off,” he said, and headed down to the Slytherin dormitories. He left his two goons in the commons and headed to his godfather’s chambers. He knocked.

“Enter,” came the gruff response.

The dark haired potion master looked up, look softening to see Draco, only a tiny bit, however. “Yes, Draco, can I help you with something? As you can see, I’m busy.”

“Um, I have something I wanted to talk to you about,” he said thoughtfully.

Snape raised a brow, noting the seriousness of the boy’s demeanor, and stood up. “Something going on I should know about?” 

“Well, it’s not about me. What would you say if someone suddenly started acting really weird and not the way they are supposed to?” he asked, not really wanting to tell his godfather who he was talking about.

Snape crossed his arms, hands hiding in the folds of his robe. “Is there a problem with one of your housemates?” Snape had had his share of boys and girls that he’d had to help in his house with a load of different issues, though the other houses would have no idea.

Draco shifted. “Nah, another house. And I don’t want to say who until I know if there’s something to tell. It may be nothing, and I…I don’t know this person enough to say for sure.”

Snape sighed. “Well I can’t tell much by that. Are they acting like there is something wrong, or are you thinking something else is going on?” Stupid child, he thought. 

“No, not yet, I mean, it might be stupid,” the blond boy said shaking his head. Draco was quickly losing his nerve.

“Well, it depends on how they’re acting different, Draco. I can’t say with that much of a description.”

“You know, it really isn’t anything, come to think about it. I shouldn’t have come,” he stammered, thinking perhaps it best be left alone after all. If Potter didn’t want to talk, he wouldn’t talk. And it was stupid for him, Draco Malfoy, to think that the great Harry Potter needed any help. He’d just turn it down like he had before.

With that, Draco turned on his heel and left the room. Snape stared after him for a while. He supposed the boy was of the age to have some romantic interests, perhaps this was about something like that, a person acting odd around him? Definite sign of a crush. He shook his head, not really sure what else it could possibly be.

\---Truth----

As they entered potions Thursday that first week, they entered to see Snape fiddling with a strange bottle with swirling purple misty liquid. He turned to the class. 

“Class, today we’re taking a day to expand your knowledge of how potions work in combination with charms and other spells. Today we’re going to do a small ritual called Carmina Cordi, or the Heartpoem. Put simply, when the potion is ingested after casting the Carmina Cordi charm on the Animus potion, the quill and parchment on your desk will write down the Heartpoem of your partner while it is recited in a vocalization drawn directly from the heart. The reason this is a charm and a potion is the potion acts as a sort of truth serum, while the charm pulls the information out in a poetry format. The poem reflects the subject’s heart.   
“No doubt you are wondering why this would be used. This ritual is used for several reasons, including questioning, ascertaining true motives, and for partners wishing to expand their connection to each other. Most importantly, for this type of potion/spell combination, this is the safest and most obvious example. There is little that can go wrong with the simple Animus potion, and even less with such a simple charm. You will see when the two are combined, they create a very unique effect. In essence, there are many ways to combine potions with spellwork of many kinds.

“When we’re done, everyone will have heard the other’s poems. This is also an exercise in trust with your fellow potion maker. Potter, do not blow up Mr. Weasley when you make the potion,” he said, rolling his eyes. Oh he couldn’t wait to see what the precious Potter’s poem would say. He imagined it would exude arrogance and pride.

Before long, the class all had vials of clear liquid sitting in front of him. Snape was pleasantly surprised when even Potter and Weasley’s potion came out perfectly clear. He nodded to them with no comment.

“Now, raise your wands and cast Mainfesto Carmina Cordi directly on the potion. The potion should take on a purple mist-like quality,” he said, watching as everyone did the casting. He was pleasantly surprised when he looked out to see each potion well formed. “Now you cannot cast this charm on yourself, so trade with your partner, and drink the potion when I come by your area. Don’t worry, I’ve checked your potions, and surprisingly all of them have come out correctly, even Potter and Weasley.”

He looked around, and landing his eyes on the pair. May as well get them out of the way first. “Potter, let Weasley have your potion and let’s see what his poem has to say.”

Ron took the potion and drank it, the quill running over the parchment as a strong male voice spoke in a firm tone.

“Red and white, seeking the light.   
Twisting in the end, looking for a friend.   
Taking a hand, tripping down in the sand.   
Drawn into where they’ve all gone,   
where they’ve all shone,   
and so much is not me, and it is only my reflection.   
Behind the rest, against the test,   
to be known as me, can’t they see?   
Alone and surrounded at the same,   
and there is inside something that can’t be tamed.”

Harry blinked and looked up at Snape who stood thoughtfully. Ron sat quite proud that his poem had come out so…poetic. “Very good, Mr. Weasley, please hand your potion over to Potter.” 

Ron, still basking in the glow of having a really cool sounding poem, handed the potion over the Harry who stared at it, concentrating his hardest on thoughts of good things. Maybe if he thought long enough he’d come up with a good poem that would continue to do the job of hiding his nightmares. He drank the potion, and a watery, almost tearful female voice began in a mournful sounding song-like quality as the quill scrambled across the parchment in front of Ron. At the first sound, the whole class had become enraptured and Snape frowned and stared at the quill and parchment as if it were to blame entirely.

“The light was stolen in a flash of green.   
Love was sealed and never more mine.   
Hiding in the dark of night behind locked doors,   
Telling them all with a fake smile I’m fine.   
Hush, he’s coming; this is the fear, locks click one by one,   
Hush child, don’t scream, drip blood and break bone,   
Hush child, just close your eyes and forget,   
Hush child, and let the world die, and then die alone.   
Blood dripping and sliding to release the pain,   
Crimson like tears and dripping through the floor,   
No one to make it stop, before this throat bleeds raw,   
Gone, weight lifted, but the pain remains, click locks the door.   
Night terrors that are all too real come to choke   
Around the thoughts that would try to rise,   
Innocence lost too early before it had a chance,   
And then the nightmare comes, never dies.   
Dive away, dive to the depths of two worlds.   
Slip and slide and get away between two worlds.   
Expectation runs high and this child is not enough,   
Not when the stains are too deep and disgusting,  
Waiting for summer’s end is all there is after all,  
Not good enough for what they want,  
Not enough, used and tossed away into the fall.  
Not enough when there’s no one to help it,   
Not enough when there’s no one to stop it,   
Not enough when there’s no one to dry the tears.   
Not enough when there’s no one to keep away fears.   
The monster’s in the dark, the monster’s too real,   
And alone, alone, always alone, left to feel.”

Utter and complete silence feel on the room, until they heard a choked sob emit from Harry as he stumbled to his feet, knocking the chair backward and darting from the room faster than the potion master thought possible. Ron picked up the paper with a shaking hand and looked up at his professor, then to the equally shocked face of Hermione.

“Oh god, how have we not seen it,” she whispered. “The bruises, the hiding when he’s dressing…”

Snape dropped a hand on her shoulder, and she looked up at him, and he for once had a look of sadness across his face. Draco was staring at his lap.

“Draco, it was Potter wasn’t it?” he said softly, honestly not caring. Everyone in the room had just become privy to the horrible truth of the Boy Who Lived.

“I…I had…no idea it was…that…I just thought…” he said, looking up with haunted eyes. “I mean…”

Snape sighed, knowing that Draco had thought maybe he was getting knocked around, something they were both familiar with in the den of snakes. Death Eaters were not always kind to their children. Snape reached out and took the parchment from Ron. 

“Class dismissed for the day. And if I find any one of you who has the gall to talk about Mr. Potter’s situation outside of this room, will not only have detention with me for the rest of the year, I guarantee the rest of your time in Hogwarts will be hell. Granger, Weasley, Malfoy, stay.”

Once the others had escaped his dungeon like room, he turned to the three students with him. “I need you three to find him and get him to the hospital wing immediately. Unless Madam Pomfrey can confirm this, or Potter lets me view his memories, we can do nothing. And yes, I do believe we’re dealing with the worst. Mr. Potter would not have bolted otherwise. And Draco already made the observation he’s been different since returning this term.”

Hermione nodded. “He’s always jumpy at the beginning of the term,” she said softly. “And he doesn’t like for anyone to stand too close to him or hug him ever, but…it’s always worse at the beginning of term and before the end of the term... I just thought he didn’t like it. And he hides from everyone even Ron and his brothers when he changes clothes, usually locked in a bedroom or bath…and we just thought he was overly shy…”

“You mentioned he had bruises?” Snape asked.

Ron nodded. “We went and got him to go to the Quidditch game, and he was changing when I walked in on him, and I could have sworn he had bruises on his back but he turned around too fast. And he was walking from the shower one day, but he was quick to get into the room with the door closed…”

Snape nodded. It wasn’t like he could blame a group of fourteen year old kids for not realizing what was happening. He could, however, blame himself and any number of teachers who had missed the signs. And Dumbledore that kept sending him back to the horrid place, swearing it was safer. How could anyone think this was safer? He was Lily’s child and he was being abused, sexually abused even, by that fat whale of a husband to Petunia. Honestly, he wasn’t that surprised.

“Find him and get him to the hospital wing, I’m going ahead to talk to Madam Pomfrey,” Snape said, taking off and robes billowing, his dungeon bat persona once more showing up.

All three students looked at each other for a moment. Hermione looked at the other two. 

“He’s not going to want to go. We have to get him there. Can you cast Petrificus Totalis?” she asked the two boys.

Draco nodded, followed by Ron. “Then if he won’t come, use it. We can’t let him do this alone. We’ve got to find him.”

With that, they all ran from the room in different directions to find their fellow. While both Hermione and Ron were wary of Draco being included, they didn’t mind the help finding Harry. After three hours they were starting to worry. But none were willing to give up. Hermione had scoured the whole of their tower as well as the hall and kitchen, getting some strange looks as she did so since she was supposed to be in potions. Ron had searched the Quiddictch pitch and locker rooms as well as Hagrid’s.  
But it was Draco that would find him first in the place his other two friends would never look, in the dungeons. He obviously was thinking that Ron and Hermione would be looking for him, but he didn’t anticipate Draco coming to look for him. He heard something and shifted his vision and found a set of thick draperies near a painting. A tall thin woman in the painting was looking downward and then saw Draco. She pointed to the thick drapery and Draco thought he could see a pair of shoes just barely. He could hear, as he got closer, the sniffing sound of the boy crying still. It had been three hours already, and he was still this upset…well, he supposed he couldn’t blame him. He must be freezing, though, it was cold down here.

He moved forward silently and yanked the drapery up to reveal the boy, head tucked into his knees. His head shot up, eyes wide and he made as if to run but Draco held up his wand.

“Don’t do it, Potter. I’ll petrify you and carry you.”

Harry looked around frantically. “What do you want, Malfoy?”

“Come on, you’re coming with me to the hospital wing,” he said, arching a brow.

Harry shook his head. “There’s nothing wrong with me, leave me alone.”

“I thought I told you, I’ll petrify you and carry you, and that would be much more embarrassing than just walking for yourself,” he said, pointing the wand at him again. “You’re in no condition to disarm me at the moment. No concentration if you could even get your wand out.”

Harry gave him his hardest glare and stood up slowly, wobbling on numb feet. He stomped a couple times then realized Malfoy wasn’t going to let him walk behind him. He grumbled and walked in front of the infuriating Slytherin. Why couldn’t they just leave it alone? He crossed his arms and walked staring at the ground the entire way, attempting to mask the waves of dizziness that overcame him a time or two and hoping Draco hadn’t noticed. When they entered, he looked up to see Snape sitting in a chair.

“I see your escort found you. Draco, go let Weasley and Granger know that you’ve brought Potter to the infirmary,” Snape said, waving a hand at the blond. Harry glared at him as the medi-witch came out.

“Yes, sir, but something’s wrong, he almost passed out twice on the way over here,” Draco informed him.

Harry frowned and gave him a glare, only to have it returned with a satisfied smirk as the blonde turned on his heels and left the infirmary. He looked up to see the mediwitch way too close and he stepped backward into the bed behind him.  
“Harry, dear, are you going to tell me what’s going on?” she asked gently.

“Nothing. I’m fine. Can I go?” he said tightly.

Pomfrey looked at Snape who stood up. “Potter, sit down, now,” he said in a voice that would take no challenge. Harry glared at him and huffed, finally sitting on the bed, refusing to look at anyone.

“Now, dear, I’m going to put up the curtain, then I need you to disrobe for me, not all the way, just down take off your shirt,” she said gently. 

Snape caught the terrified expression in his face. “What, just scan me like you always do, I’m not taking off my clothes!” 

He could see the tension ramping up in his body, and realized that they were going to get nowhere like this. He thought through his options. He was a child in need of intervention immediately, and possible medical attention, and he was sure Poppy would not restrain him. They needed to check for bruising and scarring before they were gone, otherwise they’d have no recourse on getting him away from that place. He knew it was possibly the wrong thing to do, and he would have to beg the boy’s forgiveness later, but he felt it was more important to get him to a safe place. He flicked his wand and sent for a sleep potion, and when it was in his hand, he spelled it quickly into Harry. He sat back stiffly, both hands going to his stomach as he felt the potion drop into his stomach. He turned with a glare to see Snape holding the empty potion bottle. He opened his mouth to talk but his eyes fluttered and he flopped backward onto the bed, making Poppy turn to him and then he just nodded.  
“I don’t think he would tolerate the exam,” he said by way of explanation. “This is perhaps better, so I can be a second to witness the results of the exam. He was heading into an anxiety attack as it is.”  
“Severus, I’m not sure about this, but it’s obvious the boy is feverish, so I’ll have to treat him for that at least. And I can’t have him having a panic attack while I’m trying to find the source of whatever his infection is, but please, give me some advance notice or ask first. I’d rather not force patients into sleep without their consent,” she said but she saw the tortured look on his almost always impassive face. He’d taken the initiative to sedate him so she didn’t have to, and now he’d be blamed if anything came of it instead of her. This was certainly something unexpected from Snape. Minerva or Albus even, but not Snape.

She nodded, and together they laid him back on the bed and pulled a sheet over his lower body. She then flicked her wand and spelled his robes and shirt onto the chair beside them, folded neatly. Both of them looked down and back at each other. His chest was heavily scarred with what looked like cuts, burns and welt marks. They gently turned him to his stomach to find his back in worse shape. There were obvious belt marks from his shoulders all the way down to the top of his pants. At the top of the band to his boxers were obvious deep bruises that went underneath them. They covered him up completely and she sighed deeply.

“Good Merlin, Severus, how is the headmaster letting this boy stay in such a place?” she whispered. “This is not all a recent event, it looks like some of this scarring is years old. Before Hogwarts.”  
Snape swallowed. “I’m hoping that the answer is he doesn’t realize it. Because if that’s not the case…”

She nodded. “We’ll need to check for signs of sexual abuse, but I’ll scan for that, the damage will be mostly internal if that’s the case. I don’t feel there is any doubt, from what you gave me already, and the symptoms are pretty obvious.”  
She closed her eyes and a warm light flowed out over him as she cast the detailed diagnostic spell over his body. “How have I missed this, he’s been in here…”

“Never this close to the beginning, though, if I’m not wrong. His scars would have been less noticeable, but most of these look fresh, from this summer, perhaps, which would explain his increased jumpiness at the beginning of this term, it would seem this year was particularly hard on him for some reason,” Snape said, looking up to see that the medi-witch looked sick.

“Severus, this is serious…I have to do some repairing. The boy has got to be in pain right now. The tearing was serious, but it was untreated, and hasn’t really healed correctly, some not healed yet. He’s swollen and I am sure he’s developed an infection…not only that he’s severely malnourished, underweight I’m guessing by several pounds,” she said, looking up at him.

They heard someone beyond the curtain. Snape nodded to her and stepped out to see the three other students. He looked at her. “Maybe Mr. Weasley and Miss Granger could offer some timeframe for you. They were with him at the end of summer.”  
Pomfrey smiled at the three students. “Dears, I need to know, it seems you spent some time with him this summer?”

Ron and Hermione went on to detail their trip to the Quidditch, how long Harry had stayed with them, and what all they had done. Draco let her know what he’d seen. She’d already seen the results of the ritual spellwork from the classroom. She sighed.  
“The timing coincides with the state of healing of his injuries, Severus. This happened before the Weasley’s picked him up. But we don’t know for sure who is the person who hurt him, I mean it is obvious that it was those awful relatives of his, but I can’t say for certain who. It could have been any of them, and at this point so far out, for all I know it could have been his aunt,” she said softly.

Snape nodded. “I think I may need to use my skills. He won’t like it, but he is underage, and we are doing this for his wellbeing. But it would be easier than him having to voice it. We already know, and have evidence, the question is simply who at this point. I’m going to the headmaster with your results, hopefully, he’ll see reason and stop with the blood wards being safer for him.”

Snape billowed out the door and the others stood for a moment. “Madam Pomfrey, is he okay?”

“He’s sleeping, he wouldn’t let me examine him, he was too upset, so Professor Snape spelled a sleeping draught into him so we could see what was happening with him,” she said smiling.

“Is he…I mean, did that really happen, what we think?” Draco asked, finally getting up the guts to say something.

She sighed. “I really can’t talk about it, dears, now Harry will be asleep for a few hours more; you three head off to class. He has a fever and a bit of infection, so he’ll stay here for the next day or two before he goes back to class. Come visit after class, now head on. Professor Snape wrote an excuse for each of you.”

They headed out and in the meantime, Snape found himself standing before the headmaster, aghast.  
“What do you mean, not enough evidence?” he asked.

“We have to have unequivocal evidence or we can’t remove him. The blood wards keep you know who away from him, and it is essential that he not get his hands on Harry,” Dumbledore said with a sigh.  
“He’s safer anywhere but there, Albus, he’s been raped for Merlin’s sake!” Snape growled.

“And we can’t confirm it was his family. For all we know, he may have a boyfriend over the summer that is abusing him. Until we can confirm where the damage is from, we can’t do anything at all,” Dumbledore said softly.  
“Then will me retrieving the memories of the abuse suffice?” Snape asked with a sigh.

Dumbledore nodded. “Of course, or if he would name his abuser himself.”

Snape looked at the headmaster like he had two heads. “He won’t do that, and you know it.

“He has to agree to let you retrieve the memories, or it is considered under duress and we can’t use it to change anything,” he said, eyeing him.  
“Then I will get his permission. I’m not going to let her son suffer like this, blood wards or no,” he said and swirled out of the room.

Dumbledore massaged the bridge of his nose. He knew Snape was furious with him, he was furious with himself, to be honest. He’d known something wasn’t right but he thought it couldn’t be this terrible. And now he was face to face with his own failings as the boy’s magical guardian. If it weren’t for the idiots at the ministry, he would have raised the boy himself, but for some reason, they wanted him raised by those infuriating muggles. Something about keeping him out of the spotlight as he grew up. Dumbledore was beginning to think it was a bunch of bunk, though. He didn’t know for sure, but he had a sneaking suspicion that there were ulterior motives behind their insistence that Harry stay with those people every summer. Would they change their mind now?

He doubted without iron clad evidence, the answer would be no. He knew the bureaucracy too well. They wanted Harry where he was, and he was beginning to think there was more to it than simply the blood wards. And those were attuned to Petunia, which Dumbledore could not imagine abusing the boy, even as much as she resented her sister and her magic. He was still a boy. So he made a choice. He would go to Number 4 Private Drive and ask the muggle woman himself. If Petunia didn’t know what was happening under her roof, then would her reaction reveal it? He could only hope.  
 


	2. Discussions and Memories

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Some revelations.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Please note this chapter shows scenes of graphic child abuse/neglect. If this is uncomfortable, please avoid the memories that are drawn during this chapter.

Dumbledore stood outside the door of Number 4 Private Drive. It was early afternoon, so the other boy would be gone and her husband would be at work. He gently tapped, and watched as the woman went wide eyed at him. She glanced outside to make sure he hadn’t been seen and pulled him into the room.

“Headmaster,” she said with a frown. “Is there a problem?”

“My dear, Petunia, it has been a long time, hasn’t it?” he said conversationally.

She looked quite uncomfortable with him standing there. “What is it, I really don’t want you to be here when Dudley or Vernon get home.”

“Petunia, I have some concerns about Harry’s wellbeing,” he began.

She motioned him to the living room and sat down beside him. “I’m not sure what you mean. He’s fed, given a place to sleep, what more do you expect for a child that was dumped on my doorstep?”

“I expect him to be treated properly,” he said looking around the room to notice the amount of family photos, none of which had Harry. “He is your sister’s child, Petunia. And you do not even have one photo to acknowledge him as a member of your family?”

She snorted. “I never wanted him to start with. I’ve done all I can. Vernon abhors everything he represents, and the fact that he’s related by blood to me doesn’t help my own situation with my husband very much.”

“So you agree with the abuse he’s received?” he asked, turning a blank face toward her.

She frowned. “So he gets smacked here or there. Vernon loses his temper easily. I can’t keep it from happening, if you didn’t want him getting slapped around, you wouldn’t send him here.”

“And he’s underweight,” he said matter of factly.

She shrugged. “Vernon doesn’t want to waste too much money on a boy that doesn’t offer anything in return. He does chores to pay his way.”

“You make a child work to pay for room and board?” he asked, an eyebrow rising.

Petunia snorted. “I didn’t ask for him.”

Dumbledore didn’t know what to say. “So you don’t mind what else your husband does to him?”

“What do you mean? We’ve already discussed what happens. Vernon knocks him around a bit, and he probably doesn’t get fed enough. I’m doing well enough to get him what food I can when Vernon is away,” she said, sighing. “I don’t want to see the boy starve, but he is such a thorn in Vernon’s side, he looks just like James.”

“So you don’t know, then,” he said sighing. “I was hoping as much, it would sadden me if you did, since you are Lily’s sister.”

She turned back from staring at the vase before her to the wizard on her couch. “Don’t know what?”

“You do realize that he’s been sexually abused, and from what the infirmary tells me, for quite some time,” he said finally.  
Petunia stopped and blinked. “What?”

“He came to school this year with a bad infection from a tear that hadn’t healed, and is in the infirmary until it clears up. And I’ve been assured that there is a great deal of scarring and tissue damage to indicate that he’s been assaulted many times over the years,” he informed her.

She sat and stared at her hands. “Vernon wouldn’t…he’s cruel and hates the boy…but he wouldn’t…”

The door opened and Dudley came sauntering into the room, stopping when he saw his mother and the robed man beside her.

“What’s this?” he asked.

“Dudley, did you know?” she asked, not lifting her head up.

Dudley froze, noting the fact she used no pet names. He shook his head.

“Did you know what your father did to Harry?” she said quietly.

The fat boy wasn’t sure how to respond, and realized there was only one thing she could be talking about, the only thing he was forbidden by his father to talk about. “I…I just heard things through the wall,” he said suddenly, as though he wasn’t sure if the words were right. “When I asked him, he said it was nothing, and when I asked dad he said I wasn’t to talk about it to anyone else, whatever I heard. I mean, I don’t know what, just things, and I knew he went in there at night after you were in bed because I heard the door…I thought it was just to beat him with the belt, I knew about that…”

Dumbledore nodded and stood. “I’ll be returning with paperwork for you to sign, Petunia. The boy is not staying here. What you do with the knowledge that your husband is a child molester and a rapist, is up to you.”

With that, he disappeared with a pop, appearing outside the wards of Hogwarts. He really needed a walk to clear his head after that. He sighed deeply and headed back to his office.

-Truth and Consequences-

Harry woke to find Snape sitting beside him reading a book. He turned and glared at the potion master.

“Harry, I’m sorry about putting you to sleep like that,” he said without looking up from his book. “But you were going into a panic attack, and it was quite obvious you were feverish. Madam Pomfrey needed to see what was wrong with you.”

Harry had nothing to say, he just sighed. “I thought so,” he said softly. “What was it this time?”

Snape looked over at him at the resigned tone. “You knew something was wrong?”

He saw no reason to cover anymore; it wasn’t like Snape didn’t know. “The pain didn’t go away this time,” he said, biting the side of his cheek. “And I kept waking up sweaty. I guess it was inevitable. I don’t know if I could have even lasted another week since I wasn’t shaking it off. It would have been obvious if I passed out or something in class.”

“Are you going to tell me about what’s happening? Or would you rather me see for myself?” he asked, the book still held up, but his focus on the boy.

Harry swallowed. “I…don’t know. I never thought anyone would even listen to me or believe me,” he said softly, turning away. “I don’t want anyone to know anyway. And now everyone knows.”

“Harry, not everyone knows. The class has been threatened on pain of eternal detention with me if they utter a word of what they heard.”

“Why?” he said, turning toward Snape. “Why are you being so nice all of a sudden? You hate me.”

Snape blinked and sat the book down beside him. “Harry, I know it seems that way, but I have my reasons. But this has shown me that there are perhaps things I am not aware of going on in your world that need to be addressed.”

Harry nodded, and realized the pain in his abdomen was gone. “What did you see anyway?”

Snape sighed. “Madam Pomfrey and I just recorded the state you were in, scars and bruises you still have and such, then she used a thorough diagnostic spell to find out what was going on. She found the infection, and you’re being treated for it, and have been given a pain potion until it is healed up. There was some rather serious damage, Harry. She wasn’t sure how you were able to function normally.”

“I’m used to it,” he said softly, and Snape felt a pang in his previously thought of dead heart. No kid his age should be used to pain like that. 

“Do you want to have your guardianship signed over to someone else?” Snape asked with a sigh, assuming that the answer would be yes.

Harry turned to him. “I can do that?”

“Well, of course, with the approval of the Ministry, but I have contacts that might be able to help,” Snape said, considering that Lucius might be willing to help him with this. He knew that he was also on the side of the Light in this war, if deeply undercover.

Just then, Dumbledore entered the room and smiled at the scowl he received from Snape and the wide eyed glance from Harry.

“I’ve returned from Privet,” he said, looking at Snape. “I am of the opinion that your aunt was unaware of what was happening?” he asked Harry.

Harry had paled, but he shook his head. Dumbledore nodded and gestured for Snape to come with him. Harry curled up on his side and fell back asleep, exhausted already for some reason. Snape followed Dumbledore to his office and they sat down. Snape crossed his legs and stared at the headmaster.

“Severus, believe it or not, I’m doing what I can. I already contacted the Ministry, but they are insistent that he not be removed from the blood wards, claiming there isn’t enough evidence to force the removal. They are hiding something from us, Severus, and I don’t know what to think or who to trust in the Ministry,” he said with a deep sigh. “I don’t want him going back there, either.”

“The ministry refuses to acknowledge that you know who is not really dead, why do they care where Harry is kept?” Snape asked, eyes narrowing in suspicion. 

Dumbledore sighed. “They claim that it is just the best option, in case someone comes for him and tries to turn him into the next Voldemort. They don’t want the Death Eaters that still remain getting their hands on him.”

Snape sighed, wondering what his next recourse would be. “I’ll contact Lucius; he’ll have some insight, and may be able to help me with the next step.”

“Does Lucius know what has happened?” the headmaster asked.

“Draco does, he was in class, but he hasn’t informed his father of what happened. I’ll floo this evening to the manor and talk with him in person,” he said, standing, robes billowing around him.

\------Truth and Consequences----

When Harry next awoke, he felt another presence and turned over to find that Draco Malfoy, of all people was sitting beside the bed reading his potion text book. He looked up as Harry turned over.

“What are you doing here, Malfoy?” he asked, reaching for his glasses. “Come to gloat?”

To his surprise, Draco sighed and shook his head. “No, Potter, I didn’t come to gloat. I came to see how you were, okay?”

Harry put on his glasses and sat up; grimacing as he realized the pain potion had worn off. Damn, it hurt after you got used to not hurting for a while. He looked up to see Pomfrey coming in and handing him a potion.

“Here, dear, I didn’t want to wake you up for it,” she said gently.

Harry looked at it and then back. “I really don’t need it, I’m okay…”

“You do need it, take it before I spell it into you,” she said, lowering her eyes on it. Harry started to argue then drank it, making a face. She handed him another, he frowned and looked up at her.

“Harry, you are underweight and malnourished by a lot, it is a nutrient potion, drink it too,” she instructed. He made a worse face at that one, and she handed him a glass of water. “I know it isn’t tasty, but you need to gain almost ten pounds, hon.”

Harry frowned, realizing that he’d lost a lot over the summer. It was usually something no one noticed because he hid it and after a month or two of eating in the great hall, he would gain a healthy weight. He noticed that Draco was still sitting there.

“Why are you still here, Malfoy?” he asked, sliding back down into the bed with a sigh.

“Just thought you might want company, Potter,” he said. “I brought you some of your assignments from potions and the others we share. Granger and Weasley have the rest.”

He looked at the blond and nodded. “Thanks, Madam Pomfrey won’t let me leave for a couple more days, she said.”

“What was wrong, anyway?” Draco asked, hoping that the raven wouldn’t clam up on him.

Harry shook his head. “Infection in wound, it’s going away now. Shoulda known when it didn’t seem to get better over the time I was with the Weasleys I should have said something but then everyone would have figured out everything I didn’t want anyone to know,” he said, looking away from Draco.

“Why didn’t you want anyone to know?” Draco pressed.

Harry quirked an annoyed eyebrow. “Would you want someone else to know something like that? I mean, I’ve got enough to deal with here with Voldemort after me, and trying to deal with classes, and I just like to forget the summers while I’m here. I don’t get much peace here, with all the stupid boy who lived crap, and people randomly talking to me for no other reason than I’m Harry Potter. I could do without that.”

Draco now took a turn to look amused at him. “So you don’t like all the fame, huh?”

“Of course not!” he said. “I just want people to leave me alone at let me be me, not some stupid destiny.”

Draco was honestly surprised. He thought that for sure he would revel in the fame that was laved onto him every day. “So, want to talk to me about what happened, anyway?” He had no idea why, but he suddenly wanted to know.

Harry, was taken about by Draco’s interest. And he was too tired right now to really argue or entertain suspicion. A part of him screamed to shut up, that this was Draco Malfoy, and he should talk to his friends, not him. But then another part of him was breaking apart, and needed to release the blockade before the whole dam burst leaving him stripped and bereft, and truly unable to heal.

“They hate magic,” he said, surprising Draco by actually saying something. “As long as I can remember, it was how freakish I was when I made something happen and didn’t know why. And…all I wanted was to be treated normal, you know? I wanted to be normal, like Dudley, so that I could sit at the table and eat with them, because if I wasn’t such a freak, then I could have at least eaten the food I made for them.”

“They didn’t let you eat with them?” Draco asked, honestly surprised, but then remembered that he was severely underweight right now. “And you cooked for them?”

Harry was starting to get sleepy again, and he wondered what that medi-witch had put into that potion. “I had to pay my way, he said. I had to pay for them taking me in when no one else would deal with such a freak. I think I was three when I started doing chores, dishes, cleaning the floors, weeding the garden. By the time I was seven I was doing most the cooking and cleaning in the house unless I was locked in my cupboard…”

“Cupboard?” Draco asked, leaning forward now.

“My room, I guess, I didn’t have a room until I started Hogwarts, even my letter came addressed to the cupboard under the stairs,” he said, snorting. “So obviously, someone knew I was sleeping in a cupboard.”

Draco didn’t know what to say. Seriously, how could someone do something like that? It made his heart ache, and he was very surprised by that fact. And he just talked about it like it was nothing. His rival, his pampered and pompous rival, was more downtrodden and treated worse than a house elf.

“But I don’t see how,” he said softly. “How did they not do something, I mean, you’re a celebrity in the wizarding world, the one that took out you know who as a freaking baby? I mean, I, we, always thought you’d be raised to know that, and be a pompous ass.”

Harry smiled. “I didn’t even know what a wizard was until Hagrid found me, Malfoy. I was an annoying freak that wasn’t supposed to talk, and had to hide when anyone came over to visit. My cousin loved to play ‘Harry Hunting’ where I’d get to run from school while they chased me and then if I was lucky, I didn’t get beat up.”

Draco nodded, then sighed. “I’ve gotta go to class, I’m sure Granger and Weasel will be by sometime, okay? I’ll see you later,” he said, waving.

Harry looked after him, extremely confused, but felt that there maybe was a little bit of a sleeping potion in that she’d given him because he fell into a sleep again.

\-----------Truth and Consequences----------

“Severus, what are you doing here?” Lucius Malfoy said as the potion master stepped from the fireplace. 

“I need some help with the Ministry,” Snape said with a sigh.

Lucius handed his oldest friend a drink. “What in the world for?”

Snape sighed and drank the entire thing at once, gaining a confused look from the blonde. “I need to get guardianship for a student, and they aren’t going to want to give it to me.”

“Why in the world would you need that?” he said, leading the dark haired man into the sitting room and sat down on the large divan beside Snape.

“Well, I’ve taken an interest in Harry Potter’s well-being,” he said, sighing. 

“What?” Lucius said, blinking. “The boy who lived? Isn’t he being cared for by Lily’s sister?”

Snape nodded. “Yes, but it seems that his uncle…” he paused. “His uncle has been taking advantage of the boy.”

The blond ran a hand through his hair. “What does that even mean? You mean, in an inappropriate way?”

“What other way is there to take advantage of a child his age? He’s only just turned fourteen, same as Draco. And he’s been severely abused for many years,” Snape said, rubbing his temples. “I want to remove him, and so does Dumbledore, but the Ministry is blocking us at every turn, claiming that only the blood wards can protect him from the remaining death eaters,” he said, sighing.

Lucius nodded. “I’ll see what I can do, and what I can find out, but it may take some time. At least he’s safe at Hogwarts,” he said, shrugging at him. Snape thanked him and flooed back to his rooms and sat thoughtfully until there was a knock at his door.

“What?” he called, more than a little irritation in his voice.

Draco entered the room slowly, wanting to gauge his godfather’s mood before he spoke. Snape rolled his eyes. “Come in, what is it, Draco?”

“Um, I just was wondering if there was anything yet from father,” he said, looking around.

Snape nodded. “I just visited with your father, he’s looking into the Ministry for me, and hopefully we’ll at least have some temporary papers by the end of the week. But Harry will have to go with us to get them signed.”

Draco frowned. “Why? Why does he have to ever go back there?”

“The papers have to be signed by Harry, his guardians, and the new guardian at the same time, and in presence of each other, otherwise the magical binding won’t dissolve linking him to the Dursleys. It can’t be helped.”

“He’s not going to like that,” Draco said. “He actually was talking to me, though, and just what he told me, I can’t imagine. Why did we all believe him to be some sort of spoiled brat?”

Snape sighed. “Blame the ministry,” he muttered. In fact, he was inclined to blame the ministry for everything at this moment. “He seems to be nothing like we were told.”

\----------Truth and Consequences----------------

“Harry!” Ron said, coming into the infirmary. “How are ya, mate?”

Harry smiled, looking up as he and Hermione came and sat down beside him. “I’ll be happier when she lets me leave…”

Hermione smiled, and Harry could see the unspoken questions in both of their eyes. “Why didn’t you tell us at least?” she asked. Leave it to Hermione to get to the point.

Harry sighed and stared at his hands. “I didn’t want any more attention than I already have. And I didn’t want anyone to know. I…I was sure you wouldn’t want to hang around me anymore if you knew.”

Ron and Hermione exchanged glances. “Why in the world not, Harry?” Ron asked.

Harry looked up with tears collecting as he fought them desperately. “Who would want to be around me after what I did?”

“What you did? You didn’t do anything, Harry,” Hermione said, squeezing his hands. “That monstrous uncle did.”

“Mr. Potter, may I speak with you?” Snape’s voice came from the doorway. He swallowed and nodded. 

“I’ll talk to you later, guys,” he said with a nod. Both went ahead and left, watching him until they were out the door.

Snape sat down beside him and sighed. “If you aren’t willing to testify before the Ministry, I need to take them first hand memories. Then, we can sign you away from them to another guardian.”

Harry shook his head. “I don’t want to talk in front of the Ministry.”

Snape had assumed as much. “Then will you allow me to retrieve a few and take them in? It won’t hurt, but you will see what I am seeing.”

Harry bit his lip and nodded. “If I do this, then I don’t have to go back? Ever?”

Snape smiled, actually smiled, at Harry. “It does. They want undeniable proof, and this is one of the best ways. Honestly, if you were to go to the Ministry, they would likely do this in front of the courtroom anyway. This way I can stand in your stead, if you want me to.”

Harry nodded. “I’d rather have you rooting around in my memories than someone else,” he said softly. 

Snape nodded. “We can wait,” he said.

“No, let’s get this over with. I want this done,” he said, shaking his head.

“Okay, here’s a calming draught, take this first. I’m going to retrieve several memories, so if there is something you think I should see, push the memory to the front of your mind. Things that will make sure they understand how mistreated you were,” he said, and Harry nodded, closing his eyes. Snape was amazed the boy was trusting him this much. 

The memories stung, he realized as he reached for one that was shoved his direction, obviously something that Harry wanted him to take.

“Freak, get out here!” a voice screamed that sent a shiver of terror through the small body.

He was perhaps six, and thin as a rail, as he crawled from the now unlocked cupboard. He stared up at the massive man above him. “Yes, uncle?” he said quietly.

“Did you break a plate when you did the dishes?” he snarled.

Harry nodded. “Yes, uncle, but I cleaned it…”

His words were interrupted by a slap to the face. “And what happens when you break dishes?”

Harry swallowed. “I get punished to pay for it because plates aren’t free,” he said softly.

An hour later, he lay in his cupboard, nursing sore ribs and a split lip that was still bleeding. Outside he heard his aunt.

“Don’t you think you were a little hard on the boy, Vernon?” 

“Gotta teach ‘im early to obey and pay his way, nothing can let slide. Don’t let him out until Sunday, he doesn’t get to eat before then.”

Harry cried from the hunger until late that night the door opened and he turned his bleary eyes up to see his Aunt. “Here, Harry,” she said, handing him some crackers and a cup of water. “Don’t tell him I gave it to you, okay?” Harry nodded and ate quickly handing the cup back to his aunt. 

“Thank you,” he whispered. She nodded and the door was latched again.

Snape spun out of the memory and looked for another one. He needed proof of the assaults, so he had to keep going.

“Be safe,” Vernon said as the door closed. Then he opened the cupboard. “Get out, now, boy,” he said.

A seven year old Harry scrambled out, and was grabbed by the collar. He was drug, tripping to the sitting room where Vernon pulled him onto his lap. Harry had no idea what to think, he’d never sat on someone’s lap before that he remembered. He sat there a moment but began to squirm, feeling something poke at him.

“Uncle Vernon…what is that?” he said, squirming away from the hardness he was sitting on.

“I’ll show you, boy,” he said, and Harry was amazed at the strange thing let from his pants, red and leaking liquid. It most certainly didn’t look like his own boy parts.

“Touch,” he commanded, and Harry didn’t know what to do but what he was told. He jumped when he felt his uncle slide a hand down the back of his own pants.

“Be still, boy, or I’ll leave you in the cupboard until they get back next week, and forget to feed and water ya,” he growled.

Harry nodded, extremely uncomfortable as he was touched and fondled by the large hand. Tears fell from his sparkling green eyes because he knew how wrong it was. But what could he do? He didn’t want to spend a week in the cupboard without food and water. He squeaked as a finger forced itself where it definitely was not supposed to be, but he bit his lip and continued to do what he was shown to do by his uncle’s other hand that covered his as he stroked the large thing in front of him until liquid shot out of it and shocked Harry into leaning backward painfully into the hand that was playing with him.

“Get to your cupboard. And if you tell anyone, I’ll make sure you can’t talk anymore,” he said, shoving Harry from his lap.

Snape was disgusted, but this is the kind of memory that would keep Harry away from the monster. He hated to go further, but he needed another memory. One that would pin his uncle for good. He dismissed several that Harry pushed his way, until he found one that he was trying to keep Snape from. He hated to retrieve one he was wanting so much to hide, but he knew that it was what was going to keep him safe. Finally, Harry pulled away and let Snape into the memory.

Harry was ten years old, and his aunt and cousin were gone for the day shopping. Harry was curled into the corner of the cupboard. School was out for summer, so he knew what would be coming. Uncle Vernon loved to make Harry suffer in the summer when no one could question the bruises. He was shivering because last night he’d accidently exploded a vase without being anywhere near it and he knew that his uncle was angry at him. He hoped he forgot.

The door banged open and Harry stared up at the furious, red face. “You think I forgot what you did last night, freak? If you think the beating I gave you then was all, you are sorely mistaken,” he said, grabbing him by the arm and hauling him out.  
“Please, Uncle Vernon, I didn’t mean to do it! It just happened when Dudley was teasing me, I got mad and it…” his please were cut off when he was cuffed in the mouth as he was drug upstairs. 

Harry started to panic. Where were they going? They never went upstairs. His uncle beat him with the belt in the kitchen usually, and he’d never actually been upstairs to the rooms there. There was a snort and the door opened and Harry found himself tossed onto a large bed. He looked around, and back up to his uncle who was grinning at him. Harry swallowed and heard a click, and realized his uncle was recording this. 

“Uncle, what is that?” he said, glancing at the camera. 

“Just something to remember this by after you’re long gone, boy,” he said and started to strip Harry of his clothes. 

Harry gasped, and tried to crawl away, but his hands were grabbed and wrapped with a thick rope and tied to the head of the bed. He gasped as his uncle flipped him to his belly.

“What are you doing?” he cried, feeling the rough fingers push into him. “Stop! That hurts!” he said, trying to pull away.

“Oh I’ll stop, when I’m done,” he said low, and pulled his fingers away. For a moment Harry thought that surely this was over. He was wrong though, as felt something larger and harder. 

He screamed as burning, hot pain ripped through him, and his arms quivered, his face dropping into the bed. He felt something tear inside him, and felt blood rush to fill him, and ease the pain of his uncle’s thing inside him. What was he doing this for? Why? He cried into the bed until his uncle released that white fluid inside him and it burned and stung so much he yelped again. He pulled away and Harry fell over, blood and other stuff coating the bed and his legs. He hiccupped and swallowed hard as his wrists were free, but he didn’t move, he hurt so much.

“Get up, get out and go to your cupboard,” his uncle said as Harry stood, falling to his knees several times, and nearly falling down the steps, until he collapsed into his cupboard, sobbing.

Snape pulled away and held the three collected vials. Harry was crying by now, and Snape sat beside him, pulling him against him.

“That was very brave, Harry. Very brave. I know it was hard, but you did well. I’ll be back by tomorrow with the papers we need from the Ministry, then we won’t have to worry anymore about those awful people. And we may be able to get the Muggle authorities on him. Do you know where he kept that tape you saw him make, Harry?” Snape said, rubbing a hand up and down the boy’s arm.

“Tapes,” he said thickly, making Snape shiver. “He…he made one every time…” he whispered. “He kept them in a locked box on the shelf in the closet…”

Snape grabbed a sleeping draught and handed it to the shivering boy. “Do you want to go to sleep, it has gotten late,” he said softly. Harry nodded and drank it. Before long, he’d fallen asleep against the potion master. He sighed and laid him down. He headed to his rooms to change clothes and left to find Draco standing at the doorway.

“I want to go with you,” he said. “When you take Harry to sign those papers, I want to go with you.”

Snape frowned, confused by his request and seemingly out of character act of caring but nodded. “If Mr. Potter will allow you to come, you may. Your father is already going to go with me to ensure they cooperate and as a Ministry witness. Assuming that these memories are enough evidence.”

He turned and went into the other room to floo to Malfoy manor once more. He saw that Lucius was waiting for him patiently.

“Here, ensure they are returned once they are viewed. No one more than necessary needs to see this,” Snape said, handing the three memories to him.

“I will get back to you as soon as I hear,” he assured, and put them away in a locked box on his desk.

Snape left, and Lucius watched with interest. Could it be that there was some compassion left in the bitter potion master? Could this whole thing with the Potter boy help him?  
\------Truth and Consequences-------

Harry was eating dinner when Snape came in the next evening bracketed by the elder and younger Malfoys. He looked up with curiosity.

“Harry, we’ve got the papers we needed from the Ministry. Now we are left with your guardianship,” he said nodding at him.

Harry nodded; finishing his food quickly and downing the awful nutritional potion that made him want to gag. “I guess Sirius is out of the question even though he’s already my guardian…”

Snape fought the urge to groan. “Technically, he’s on the run, Harry, and he’s not able to do this. Otherwise, you’d already be there. However, I would be willing to take over for now until you’ve had time to think over it more. You’ll be at Hogwarts for the year anyway, so it won’t matter. If you prefer some other guardian once summer gets here, you’ll be allowed to change it.”

Harry frowned. “You’d be willing to do that, Professor?” he asked, wide eyed.

“I would, Harry, but we have to go have them sign off on the papers, and you have to go there as well,” Snape said.

All three saw the terror cross his face for a moment and he swallowed and nodded. Draco smiled at him. “If you want, father and Uncle Severus said I could come with you.”

Harry nodded. “That would be good,” he said, staring at his hands.

Snape glanced at the Malfoys. “Well, get yourself dressed, and we’ll apparate there shortly and get this completed.”

Harry did as he was asked, and followed the group silently outside the school wards. Snape held onto him as Lucius took his son in a similar fashion. Harry never did well with side by side apparition and always ended up nearly falling. He stared across at the house that had dwelled in his nightmares since he could remember, and he found himself desperately grasping at Snape’s hand. It was dark evening already as the group moved together across the street. To Harry’s surprise, he felt his other hand taken by Draco, and he looked to see the other boy looking at him with concern, not disdain. Snape let go of his hand to knock on the door.

Petunia opened the door and her eyes went wide to see Snape and another man who was obviously a wizard with her nephew and another boy his age.

“You were told to expect someone with paperwork,” Snape said sternly.

“I didn’t expect it to be you,” she said.

“Who’s at the door?” a gruff voice came from inside. Petunia stepped aside and allowed the four to enter. Harry’s hand tightened even more on Draco’s.

The fat whale of a man glared at them. “What are you doing here? Don’t expect me to take the freak during his school year. Was he expelled from your freak school?” he sneered.

Now Draco squeezed Harry’s hand as a shiver passed through the raven haired boy. “Harry is not a freak, you fat fuck,” Draco snarled.

For once, Draco wasn’t reprimanded by his father for his language. The fat man glared at the blond boy. “You another freak like him? What, you a queer now, freak?” Vernon asked, staring at Harry who stared wide eyed. “No surprise, freak, since you liked every moment of our time together.”

Petunia, who had left the room to get tea entered again and glanced between them. Harry was shaking visibly now. She set the tray down and offered tea and showed them to the sitting room. Harry stood back behind the couches, still clutching Draco for some much needed support as the two men sat and glared back at Vernon.

Snape laid the papers on the coffee table. “Sign here, each of you, and then you don’t have to worry about Harry again.”

Petunia grabbed the pen and signed her name at the bottom and handed the pen to Vernon. “I’m not signing this. What is it?”

“You are giving up guardianship for Harry. Professor Snape is taking over from here out. This home has been deemed unsafe by the Ministry of Magic, and I am here to execute this under their order,” Lucius said calmly.

“Like hell. I’m not signing,” he said. “This home isn’t unsafe.”

“Vernon, please,” Petunia whispered.

Snape nodded, and stood. He disappeared with a pop, then reappeared a moment later, holding an unlocked lockbox. He held up one tape in a gloved hand. “It seems that you need to sign those papers, Mr. Dursley.”

The fat man paled and he quickly signed, followed by Snape. Harry moved over to sign them as quickly as he could. Snape held up the box and then it disappeared. He grabbed Harry and disappeared. Lucius stood up slowly, pulling his son to him.

“Mr. Dursley, I suggest you put your affairs in order. That box has been delivered to the local police.”

With that, he too disappeared.


	3. Night Terrors in the Daylight

Petunia was stunned for a moment and turned to her husband. A part of her had wanted to deny what had been said, even though she knew something was wrong. But the blond wizard made it clear, as had Severus. She’d seen the box, for years now, at the top of the closet, always locked tight. And of course, she’d asked, he just said it was a fire safe, nothing to worry about. She turned to the red faced man.

“Vernon, what did he mean?” she asked softly.

He glared at her from puffy lidded eyes. “Nothing you need to worry about.”

“What was in that box? He was holding a tape.”

“Then I don’t think I have to tell you what was in the box, now do I?” he snarled at her.

And that was it. “You…you videotaped what you did to him? Why…why would you do that? Why would you even do something like that to anyone, let alone my nephew?”

Vernon stared at her, and they heard a knock at the door. Vernon stared into space, and Petunia opened the door to find an officer waiting there. She shook her head and pointed when he started to speak.

“Get him out of here,” she whispered. “Just take him now.”

Those that knew the Dursleys knew what had happened, despite the lengths the authorities of both worlds went to cover up the identity of the child he was accused of abusing. As is usual when the wizarding and muggle world works together, the case was complicated, using both muggle and wizarding evidence. In the end, as a muggle, Vernon was sentenced to a muggle prison. Unfortunately for him, his crime was made quite public, though his victim’s identity was kept secret. As secret as possible, of course. Those that knew Harry was in the care of the Dursley’s figured things out relatively quickly even with the sketchy details of the reports. They attempted to keep it from the papers of the wizarding world. Of course, it came out even there, despite their efforts.

It was, however, quite the surprise when Vernon suffered an attack by a large black dog on his way to the courthouse some week later. In the chaos, the beastly dog managed to slip away before animal control could find it, leaving Vernon Dursley laid up in the prison infirmary for almost six weeks. By this point, his trial was over, found guilty of several counts of child endangerment, child abuse, and sexual assault on a minor. Among those that testified against him in the muggle court were Petunia and Dudley, Ms. Figg, and his current guardian who was not named in the documents of the muggle court, who testified in the victim’s stead. There were questions that the victim was not brought before the court, but the judge dismissed the prosecution’s objections, claiming that facing his abuser would be detrimental to his healing. He did not publicly show the tapes that had been acquired; the judge had viewed them in private with both defense and prosecution. At the point the defense attorney viewed the tapes, he advised Vernon to plead guilty immediately, and he did, though protested much at first.

Petunia and Dudley ended up moving, taking up new lives as far away from Privet Drive as they dared to go. Severus came to them and asked that if they should need anything, to contact them because Harry would be willing to help them if he could, since he knew that Petunia had been a sort of victim in that household as well. But Harry had a lot to deal with on his own, too much to worry about random black dogs attacking his abuser or the fact that within a week of being released from the infirmary, it was well known what Vernon had been sent to jail for among his fellow inmates.

However, the worst to come was nothing to do with official releases, it was to do with failsafes that his uncle had put in place in the event his nephew talked. And within twenty four hours, they had already gone into effect.

\--------Consequences-------

When Harry returned to the infirmary, he was exhausted, physically and emotionally. Snape settled down beside him on the chair beside the bed as he shook violently staring at his hands.

“I can’t believe he said that…that I liked…”

Harry felt an arm around his shoulder and he looked to see Draco had settled beside him on the bed. He’d missed him entering the room entirely. “Don’t think about anything he said, Harry,” Draco said squeezing his shoulder.

He bit his lip to try and avert the tears coming to his eyes. “I can’t even…I don’t know…I didn’t like anything he did!” he finally gasped. “He…he…hurt me so many times…I felt so dead afterward every time, like I wasn’t real anymore…”

Snape stood on impulse and sat on the other side of the boy, pulling him against him, to a very amused look from Lucius who stood in the doorway with crossed arms. At the touch, between Snape pulling him into him, and Draco’s continued touch on his arm, he broke finally. So long, everything pent up inside, and even when he’d gone through the memories with Snape, it was nothing like this. He’d been able to distance himself from the events, like he always had. It was like everything came out all at once. The pain, the anger, the humiliation and hurt, it all came out. He yelled and remembered punching into Snape’s chest, and feeling hands on his shoulders, and rubbing his back. He said things, he didn’t even know what he said, but he felt the effect as the body he clung to would tense and stiffen now and then as he let everything fall from him lips and his heart.

Draco could never have imagined seeing or hearing what was in front of him. The unbridled release of everything was startling but he stayed there, waiting for the storm to pass. He talked about such things that he was sure that these things should have killed the boy in front of him. He cried and pleaded with anyone who would listen as to why. And no one could answer him, though they all wished they could. Draco found himself crying with him, to his surprise. He didn’t notice when his father left.

Finally, he’d exhausted himself completely and Snape realized that he’d fallen asleep against him, breathing even if still ragged. Snape looked across his bowed form to see Draco staring at him. Snape sighed deeply as Poppy came in and looked down on them.

“It might get worse, Severus, before it even comes close to getting better,” she said softly. “But this is a good sign. Just be careful.”

Snape laid him back into the bed, noticing that he slept so deeply, even the movement didn’t have any effect on him. “Poppy, I’m not sure I can do this.”

She smiled softly. “You can, and you might make some mistakes, but you can. You’re the one that’s got him out of that place for good, and he trusts you now.”

“Poppy, I’m not good with children. I scare them, not comfort them. I’ve already done things I shouldn’t have done, and I don’t know how he can trust me even now,” he said, looking up to see Draco hadn’t moved yet.

She put a hand on his shoulder. “You’ve always fascinated him, Severus. And besides Dumbledore, you’re the only one I know of to take a real interest in his well-being. The Weasleys, of course, but Harry always feels like he’s intruding on their perfect family, as he says. They’re already a family, and he sees himself alone. He sees you’re alone. Maybe that’s what makes you different to him. He thinks you need his help as much as he needs your help.”

Snape sighed, rubbing his eyes. “I suppose you’re right. But surely he’ll choose a different guardian by the end of the year.”

“Why did you go through with this now, instead of waiting?” she asked, messing with a tray beside the bed.

“Until the end of year?” he asked. “Albus and I were afraid that if we didn’t act immediately, the ministry would put off things since they seem so damn adamant he stay there. This way, by the end of the term, there can be no argument. And Albus thought it might help Harry if there were some sort of closure since he’s suffering now, and waiting would only leave him afraid of the future. He’s gone through a lot, and Lucius agreed that it was better to get this over with so he could move on from it.”

Poppy nodded. “I think we should call in a specialist, as well, to work with him. If you are agreeable?”

Snape frowned. “Whatever you think is best, Poppy…”

“Severus, you’re his guardian now, so I do need to ask you.”

“Oh,” he said, staring down at the sleeping boy. He looked frail, eyes red and puffy, and his skin too pale and thin still. “I suppose you’re right. Yes, do that. He needs to work with someone. I still don’t understand why he’s trusting me so much.”

“You’ve shown him affection, whether you know it or not, Severus,” Poppy said with a sigh. “Think about it, the most affection he’s accepted over the years came with a cost. The child hasn’t been held or hugged without being hurt. You’ve asked nothing of him in return.”

Snape nodded and saw that Dumbledore had entered toward the end of the conversation. He saw the Harry was sleeping and Draco was still sitting at the end of the bed.

“Mr. Malfoy, you should get yourself to bed soon,” he commented, breaking Draco from his daze.

“Ah, yes sir,” he said, and stood and walked away quietly.

“I see the young Malfoy went with you, how did things turn out?” he asked, standing at the foot of the bed.

“Lucius sent the muggle police the taped evidence, with an anonymous tip about the contents and that there was another child in the household. I’m sure he’s been arrested by now. Lucius already had someone from our side contact their side about the issue, and I’m sure by tomorrow, a joint investigation will be launched,” he said with a nod. “I’m still not sure about that course of action. When it hits the papers…”

Albus sighed. “It is the only way. As much as it will hurt the boy when it becomes known, if we keep it secret, the Ministry will use it against us. Crouch has been making overtures already indicating that we’ve falsified the memories.”

“He’s still bitter after losing his son,” Snape mused. “Why take it out on Harry?”

“Harry indirectly caused his son to be taken from him, Severus. I’m beginning to think that he’s decided that Harry is at fault for everything. He’s a father, and wanted nothing but to protect his son, and he couldn’t,” Albus said, sitting gently on the end of the bed.

Snape shook his head. “His son was a death eater, a choice he made all on his own, Harry had nothing to do with that.”

“If Voldemort hadn’t gone down, he wouldn’t have been sentenced to Azkaban. And Harry, though a baby, was the reason he was brought down. The blame falls on him, whether it was intentional or not,” he said softly.

Snape nodded. “I’m going to get things wrapped up before tomorrow’s classes. I’ll speak with you more later, Albus,” he said, headed out.

Poppy came over and smiled at the headmaster. “How is he, Poppy?”

“He’s physically healing. The infection is nearly cleared, and I was able to repair the untreated wounds magically, so it wasn’t invasive. He barely tolerated me checking him over at all. I’ve been treating him with scar salve so they go away, and bruise salve. His tailbone was also cracked, but I’ve repaired that. I can’t imagine how the boy was acting normally,” she said, staring at him as he slept deeper than she’d seen him sleep before. “But he had a breakdown when they brought him back from the Dursleys. Apparently, his uncle had some parting words for the boy that unsettled him.”

Albus nodded. “I would have expected as much. But the papers have been filed. By tomorrow, it will be official, and soon the man will be in prison for good.”

\--------Truth and Consequences--------

_Hovering over him was a face he didn’t want to see. He squeezed his eyes shot, but the face remained, laughing and sneering at him._

_“You liked every moment,” it whispered in his mind._

_“No!” he screamed._

_“Look at you, holding hands with a boy, little queer whore, he’ll be happy I broke you in for ‘im, now won’t he?” and hands latched onto his arms, squeezing for bruises forming deeply there. He screamed, feeling the hot breath on his neck._

_“Leave me alone!” he fought the hold to feel hands, more hands, more than the two holding him in bruising grip._

_“You’ll make a good fuck for yer lil boyfriend,” the voice whispered. “And maybe that new bastard guardian. Going to suck his cock like ya did for me?”_

_“Get away!” he screamed, fighting off what felt like eight sets of hands, pinching, poking, prodding him, and he screamed in frustration._

_“Such a shame, but at least I have my memories and my lovely mementos…they took my tapes, but you didn’t tell them about the rest!” the leering voice said in his ear, forcing a shiver through his body._

“Harry!” a voice pierced the veil of the nightmare and he sat up, nearly banging his head into someone over him. His eyes cleared and he looked up to see Ron’s blue eyes sparkling back at him.

He swallowed hard and shook his head to clear the horrid nightmare. “Sorry, Ron, sorry…”

“Harry, don’t say that, are you okay?” he asked, sitting down beside him.

He nodded. “Yeah, just yesterday took a lot out of me.”

Ron frowned. “What happened yesterday?”

Harry looked up. “Oh, yeah, you were gone to bed. Snape and Lucius and Draco came and brought some papers from the ministry. We had to get my uncle and aunt to sign them so someone else could be my guardian and I don’t have to deal with them anymore.”

Ron nodded. “How’d it go?” he asked.

“I…I let Draco go with me, he’s actually been really nice, not near the git I thought he’d be, and he even yelled at my uncle when he said something bad to me…” he said softly, picking at the covers.

“Malfoy? Really?” Ron said, taken aback. “And his father was there too? I thought he was as much of a prat as his son.”

Harry shook his head. “I think…maybe he isn’t. Neither one of them wanted me to stay there, so they can’t be all bad, right?” he said looking up with hopeful eyes.

Ron wanted to tell Harry that the Malfoys were bad news, and that he should stay away, but he actually saw pretty clearly that right now, Harry needed as many people to help him as possible. And if the Malfoys offered some sort of help, then maybe that was okay. Speaking of, just then a blond Slytherin entered the room. He stood nervously at the door and stared at Ron and Harry, wondering if he should approach with the other Gryffindor sitting there.

“Draco!” Harry said. “Come sit down, Ron just got here, er, rather I just woke up and Ron was here,” he said smiling at both boys.

Draco nodded and sat at the end of the bed. “Are you okay after last night?”

Harry wanted to say yes, but he shook his head. “Keep having nightmares about it,” he said softly. “I keep hearing what he said…and what I didn’t tell Severus about…”

“What you didn’t tell Uncle Severus?” Draco asked, tilting his head forward and arching a brow. “What didn’t you tell us, Harry?”

He looked desperately to Ron and back to Draco, unsure about the whole thing but he bit his lip and shuddered. “I…I told him about the tapes. B-but there was more. P-pictures and stuff like that,” he said softly.

Draco didn’t say anything, just stood, leaving his books on the bed and dashed from the room. Ron watched, a frown crossing his brow and turned back to Harry.

“What do you mean tapes and pictures? Of what?” he asked, afraid to know the answer.

Harry shifted uncomfortably. “Of the stuff he did,” he said in a barely audible whisper.

Ron didn’t know how to react but didn’t have time as Snape swept into the room followed by Draco. “Harry, Draco says that he had pictures? Why didn’t you tell us last night when we were there, or before?”

Ron at first couldn’t get over Snape calling Harry by his first name. Then he realized Harry had referred to him as Severus when talking to Draco.

“I didn’t think about it, I’m sorry,” he said, looking at the man’s angry scowl and couldn’t help but feel fear blossoming in his chest. “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to not tell you…” He was slowly starting to panic. “Don’t make me go back because I forgot…”

For a second, Snape didn’t understand why the boy was starting to panic suddenly. He looked at Draco who looked back at him with a frown and Snape closed his eyes, quelling the anger in his chest. He moved over and sat beside the boy, noticing the flinch as he got closer.

“Harry, I’m not angry at you, I’m still angry at the filthy excuse for an uncle you were with. I…don’t direct my anger well. You won’t be going back, ever. I promised you, right? Even if at the summer you change your guardianship, it doesn’t matter. Okay?” he said, trying to school his own temper. He was obviously going to have to work on that. A lot.

Harry swallowed hard, nodding. “He…he said if I ever told anyone that…that he’d give them to someone else…” he said quietly. “And…and I don’t know where they were…I just know he had them…and that he took them…and…and…”

Snape, to Ron’s utter and complete surprise, sat down beside him, and put an arm around Harry. “Shh, don’t worry, I’ll contact Lucius immediately. We’ll find it. And it will add one more charge. He’s already been arrested by the muggles, and a joint investigation was started. I’ve been named as your stand in for the proceedings since you allowed me to access those memories. If they insist on more, only I will retrieve them, I promise you that. That was one thing Lucius made clear especially after what happened last night. You will not be exposed to him again for any reason.”

Ron honestly didn’t know how to react. “Um, Professor, is there anything I can do to help?”

Snape looked over. “Mr. Weasley, it would seem you are doing what is necessary already. It will behoove Harry a great deal to have his friends nearby. I suppose you are wondering, but I’ve assumed Harry’s guardianship for the time being at his request. Since he is here at Hogwarts, having a guardian outside the school would be problematic with the current situation. Harry may change at the summer break if he desires,” he said coolly, Harry still sitting, staring at the hem of the cover.

Harry looked up at Ron. “Are you mad, Ron?”

“Why would I be mad, mate?” Ron asked with an arched brow.

“Because you don’t like Professor Snape and I didn’t ask your mom,” he said slowly.

Ron swallowed hard and shook his head, seeing the glare he was getting behind Harry from the potion master. “Harry, why would you think I’d be mad? You’re my mate. As long as you’re safe from that bloody git of an uncle, I am happy, mate. Just as long as you don’t resort into Slytherin,” he said with a wink.

Harry smiled, not quite ready to laugh. “You got it Ron. You just want me to stay so I can be the Seeker this year again,” he said, shooting a glance at the red head.

“Why would I want that?” he asked, incredulous.   Then he grinned. “I do like to win, mate.”

Harry nodded. “I’ll be back in the dorms tonight, Madam Pomfrey says. But I still have to drink those awful potions…”

Snape gave him a crooked smile. “Ah, so my potions are awful?”

Harry looked up. “You made them? She keeps feeding me those nutrient potions, and they taste terrible!”

“Of course, where do you think most her potions, come from? If you want to help come down to my lab one day when you’re free, she’s going to need more nutrient and pain potions after you’ve been here…” he said, standing up, missing the wince from Harry. Draco caught it, and shot his godfather a glare. Snape frowned, unsure what that was for and swept out of the infirmary.

Harry was downcast again. “Harry,” Draco said. “He doesn’t mean anything by it. He’s trying, in his own way, to help. He’s just…not very good at dealing with people…”

Harry nodded. “I know, it just…reminds me how much everyone has done for me and I don’t think I deserved any of it, and now I’ve used up Madam Pomfrey’s time, and…and…”

Draco huffed a sigh. “Harry, shut up. Just quit thinking so damn much, okay?”

He looked up at the blond and nodded. “I guess I’ll see you later, then?”

“Yeah, I’ll come by at lunch…if you want?” he asked, looking back over his shoulder.

Harry nodded, giving him a slight grin. “Yeah, that’d be nice.”

Ron shook his head. “Damn, mate, this is going to get some getting used to,” he said with a snort. “Snape and the Malfoys too. Gotta go to class, here’s what you’ve missed, I’ll come by after classes, since you already got a lunch date, I’ll eat with ‘Mione.”

“It’s not a lunch date!” Harry groused, frowning deeply at him.

“Yeah, sure mate, see ya!” he said, waving as he left the room, leaving a very confused Harry behind him.

\------------ Consequences--------------

Draco was irritated right now. “Draco, why are you going to see that brat, I mean seriously? Come eat lunch with me,” Pansy whined and it took all Draco’s will not to punch her in the nose.

He was about to retort when he saw a group of three come running across the hall at him, all Gryffindors.

“Draco!” Hermione said as she got close, getting glares from Crabbe, Goyle, Blaise, and Pansy.

He frowned. “What is it, Granger?”

“We got a problem, need to talk to your dad,” Ron huffed, catching up to him with Neville coming up alongside. “Now.”

Draco started to brush them off, and nodded, leading them away, to the shocked stares of his housemates. After they were far enough away he stopped. “What is it?”

“Those pictures, they’re out,” Ron said, shifting uncomfortably. “My brother came across some too, someone’s already spreading them.”

Draco closed his eyes and nodded. “Come on, to Snape’s classroom.”

They got the room and Draco opened the door to see a bunch of shocked first years looking back and one annoyed potions professor.

“Mr. Malfoy, you do remember how…to…knock…” he trailed off seeing the three Gryffindors standing behind him. “Class dismissed,” he said quickly, waving his wand and making all the potions disappear. Confused, the first years made their way out as quickly as they could, the Gryffindors entering with Draco, flinching as a group when the door slammed and the silencing charm was put on it.

“I assume this is about Mr. Potter.”

Hermione and Ron glanced at Neville. He moved forward and handed an envelope to Snape. “My gram sent this to me this morning, saying I should probably find out what was going on. She had been down in Diagon Alley, near Knockturn Alley last night to see about something, she didn’t say what, but there was a guy selling that. She ‘confiscated’ them, she said.”

He slid the contents out and his normally composed face was wide. He stuffed them back into the envelope and went to the fireplace to firecall Malfoy. Within a few minutes, the blond man had flooed his way into the room, annoyed at being interrupted at lunch.

“Severus, what is so important it couldn’t wait?” he said as something was shoved in his hands. He frowned and opened it, letting a light gasp.   “Where did this come from?”

“Diagon Alley,” Snape answered.

Lucius frown and looked around. “There is no way these could have ended up in the wizarding world, unless that vile man had a contact.”

“Crouch,” Snape snarled, looking up. “Somehow this is connected to him. He’s the one pushing to keep Harry there, and now he’s using this to push his control on the boy even more. He wants Harry under his thumb for some reason, and no one else seems to see it…”

Snape was silent for a moment until Lucius spoke. “Is it possible that he harbors such a grudge? To go this far…”

“He’s insane, he has to be,” Snape said with a growl. “I will have his head for this, Harry is _my_ charge. He does not want to deal with the wrath I can bring down on him in the name of the dark lord, I still bear the mark.”

Lucius looked at the four students and back to Snape, wondering at him being so open about the situation. Snape looked at them. “Let them hear, they all know I was a death eater by now, if they don’t, they haven’t been paying attention,” he said with a scowl.

“Won’t the Ministry be here?” Hermione asked. “For the Triwizard Tournament?”

Lucius and Snape both looked up and back at each other. They would be coming in at the Halloween feast. “The school is going to be overrun with people, including Ministry…” Snape commented. “Crouch will be here, and after the incident at the Quidditch World Cup…”

Neville looked confused. “What do you mean, Harry is your charge, Professor?”

Snape glared at him, making the young man flinch noticeably. “Honestly, Longbottom.”

“For now, Severus, we’ve got to find out where these came from. I’ll head to Knockturn, if there is information, my contacts there should suffice. You go to the Headmaster. And keep this away from Harry, he’s going through enough without worrying about this,” Lucius said with a sigh, flooing out of the room a few moments later.

Snape unsealed the room, and was out with a billowing of cloaks and robes. Draco sunk down into a seat and looked at the others. “He’s going to be devastated if he finds out, everything on display, that was truly awful, I mean, I know what he went through, or what I guessed, but to see it…I can’t even…”

“Did they give the tapes to the Ministry? What if…what if someone copied them? It’s easy to do in the muggle world, I imagine easier in the wizarding world,” Hermione said softly.

“He doesn’t want the fame he has,” Draco said softly. “We have to tell the medi-witch, what if he hears from someone else, or worse sees something, he…”

The other two didn’t need any motivation to be on their feet and running toward the infirmary. They skidded into the room together seeing a surprised Harry who had just gotten his lunch. He looked between the four of them and frowned.

“Um, what’s going on?” he asked.

Hermione smiled. “Oh, just brought Neville in, he hexed himself, huh, Neville? Silence curse! Can’t talk, so you know how that is, Madam Pomfrey!” she said, shuffling Neville and Ron in toward the office and a frowning Poppy.

Draco sighed and came and sat down beside him. “And I came for lunch!” Draco said with a nervous smile.

“You okay?” Harry asked, picking up the cursed potion the witch kept feeding him and downing it first so he could at least wash the taste away with lunch. “You look stressed.”

“Ah, just dealing with the rest of my friends. They seem a little bothered by me coming to visit you instead of eating with them today,” he said honestly. They had been annoyed.

Harry frowned. “You don’t have to come by, you know. I mean, I feel bad for dumping my problems on you anyway. I shouldn’t have, I mean, you have loads of other things to worry about anyway, I’m sure. I’m just putting you and your dad through so much for nothing.”

Draco shook his head, a house elf showing up with a tray for him. He sipped some pumpkin juice slowly. “Hey, I wouldn’t be hanging around if I didn’t want to.”

“Well, I don’t want you here if its pity,” Harry said suddenly, brow furrowed in anger now. All Draco could think was, damn he has worse mood swings than pregnant hippogriff. He sighed and took a few bites, allowing Harry to angrily eat his shepard’s pie.

“It isn’t pity, though it fucking sucks what happened, but that’s not why. Since when do I show pity to anyone?” he asked, brows arched in questioning at the fuming Harry. “I’m already out of character for being friendly with gryffindorks.”

The words seemed to settle him somewhat because he breathed out. “I suppose you’re right, you don’t seem to be the pitying sort. I don’t want any pity; I don’t want anyone to know at all.”

“You know it will eventually come out, right?” Draco said, figuring it better to remind him now. “I mean, he was arrested. And there’s a joint investigation. My father’s running damage control, but it will be eventually in the papers of both worlds. You’ll have to deal with the backlash. No matter how we try, it will get out one way or another.”

Harry’s shoulders slumped. “I know, but can’t I forget about that for now? I’ve got enough to worry about with this dumb boy who lived stuff. Some days I really wish that killing curse had done its job right.”

His fork stopped before it hit his mouth, more at the morose sound of Harry’s voice than the actual words. He remembered too well what having knowledge that there would be pictures circulating, perhaps even circulating the school itself, might do to him. He didn’t want to admit it, but Harry had just said it himself. In some ways, he did wish for death. And now, it was going to be harder to push that thought from his head. Shit. This was going to get more complicated before it got better. And then with the stupid Triwizard coming up and the whole place overrun with people.

Finally, he looked up to see the three Gryffindors exiting, waving and bidding Harry farewell, and he looked up to see the look on the medi-witch’s face. She was pale. And she locked eyes with Draco’s, and he knew she was thinking the same thing. There was no way they could leave him alone now, not even at night. And they had to make sure that his visitors were monitored. He was fragile right now, far too fragile to return to the dorms the next night, but they had to come up with some reason to keep him.

“Mr. Potter,” she said, taking a chance. “I’m going to request you stay here another night,” she said simply.

He looked up and frowned. “But you said I could go back tonight!”

“I know, but you haven’t put on enough weight for my liking. I need to monitor you for another day or two,” she said simply.

“But I can take the potions in my room! I need to go back to class!” he argued, but stopped when he heard a familiar chuckle from the doorway.

“Harry, it is useless to argue with her once her mind is set,” Dumbledore said from his position, an amused twinkle in his eyes.

Harry crossed his arms in annoyance, the food dishes disappearing. “I’m bored out of my mind in here, I’ve finished everything but my practices, and I’m never going to catch up in potions if I can’t _do_ them.”

“Well isn’t it lucky that your guardian is the potions’ teacher, then Harry?” he responded. Harry had no response for that retort, so he snorted in aggravation. “Don’t you have enough company?” the headmaster continued.

Harry turned to see Draco with a light smile of amusement. “Of course, I just want to get out and walk around, maybe fly…”

“All in good time, my boy,” he said, and even though he tried, he flinched at the term, even when spoken with true affection. Dumbledore noted the reaction and thought perhaps he would ask Severus about it later. “For now, why don’t you do the rest of your work for today and tomorrow. Then we’ll see if your jailer…er nurse will release you,” he said with a wink.

Harry nodded, realizing he was tired again. “I swear, the woman is lacing my nutrient potions with sleeping draught,” he said, yawning broadly and sliding back into the bed, slipping almost immediately into sleep.

Dumbledore looked up to see Poppy come out. “Are you?”

She shook her head. “No, just some calming draught. He really needs the sleep, though. He had nightmares almost all night, it’s no wonder he’s tired today. And if those horrible photos come to light, I don’t know what he’ll do.”

Draco looked up. “Headmaster, I’m afraid of what he might do, as well. He already said today he sometimes wishes the killing curse had worked when he was a baby, but it was the sound of his voice that bothered me. I don’t know how much he can take.”

Dumbledore sighed. “Well, we can’t leave him alone, that’s all there is to it, Draco, can you stay until dinner? I’ll send Miss Granger down to have dinner with him, and perhaps Mr. Longbottom or Mr. Weasley to see him afterward. Keep him talking. We have a specialist from St. Mungo’s coming tomorrow afternoon to speak with him. Let’s try to hold it together until then.”


	4. Plans and Consequences

Harry woke up slowly, having had a nice sleep. He stretched and realized someone was sitting beside him again. He looked to find a familiar mop of blond hair again. He sighed, gaining Draco’s attention.

“Well, hello sleeping beauty. Took a long enough nap, huh?” he commented dryly.

“What time is it?” Harry asked, looking at the diming light.

Draco smiled softly. “Heh, almost dinner.”

Harry rolled his eyes. “Damn, why am I still tired?”

“Well, I was wondering where you had gotten to, Mr. Potter,” a gravelly voice said from the doorway. Harry looked up to see Mad Eye Moody, their new Defense Against the Dark Arts teacher. The first day had been interesting, when the man had actually showed them the unforgivable curses.

Draco looked up with an arched brow. “Professor Moody,” he acknowledged.

Harry smiled. He actually liked the man, he was…different. “Hello, Professor Moody.”

He was somewhat disconcerting with the odd eyeball. He came forward and looked between the two boys. “You boys got cozy, huh? What happened, Mr. Potter? I was hoping to see you in class again this week. You’ve got some promise.”

Harry blushed slightly. If the man didn’t know, he was certainly not going to tell him. “Ah, got hurt over the summer, so I had to come in for some recovery.”

“You didn’t seem ailing in my class earlier in the week,” he said, frowning.

“Professor, please, leave my patient be,” Poppy said, coming out of the other area. “Mr. Potter will be enjoying your class in a few days’ time. I promise.”

He looked at her, and Harry swore he saw something, a shimmer? He wasn’t sure. He shook the thought away as the Professor licked at his lip absently, almost snakelike. Harry got a shiver just thinking like that.

“So he will, well until then, Mr. Potter. Mr. Malfoy,” he said, offering a small bow and exited the room. Draco released a breath he didn’t realize he was holding.

“Well, I’m glad you had a good rest, but you still look tired, dear,” she said, frowning at him.

He nodded. “Yeah, for some reason, I am. I’ll have dinner though, shouldn’t you go have dinner with your friends, huh?” he asked Draco.

“Yeah…” Draco started, wondering when his relief would get there. His ass was numb from sitting here all afternoon…

Just then Ron and Hermione came into the room with their trays. “Harry! We thought we’d come eat with you tonight, if you don’t mind?” she asked, smiling.

Harry nodded. “Yeah, that’s good,” he said smiling, sitting up as a tray of his own popped into existence beside him.

Ron eyed the tray. “Why do you always get such good food, mate?” he asked.

“The house elves like Harry, that’s why, Ron,” Hermione said.

Draco smiled and stood. “I guess I’ll go deal with the rest of the twits this evening. I’ll come by later, eh Harry?” Draco said, waving as he left with his bag over his shoulder.

“Yeah! Bye, Draco!” Harry said, diving into his food without seeing the looks exchanged between his two best friends.

\--------Consequences---------

Draco sauntered into the hall and took his usual seat, grabbing his plate and pointedly ignoring the looks from the other Slytherin around him.

“You decide to join us?” Blaise asked, arching a dark brow.

“Yes, I’m here, aren’t I?” Draco said with a sneer.

Pansy stared at him for a moment. “What is going on with you, anyway?”

He tried to ignore her but the looks were getting to him until someone down the table started to snicker and he heard Harry’s name muttered. He looked up, getting several of his friends’ attention at the same time. He scanned the table to see a few second years looking intently at something and he didn’t like the look they were wearing, scanning the direction of the Gryffindor table. The news hadn’t broke the papers yet, so he knew that Harry’s uncle hadn’t had his conviction, but he didn’t like the steadily gathering group around the snickering boys. He stood up suddenly and swept with all his Malfoy presence over to the group.

“Give it to me,” he stated evenly, holding his hand out.

The second year boy who was clutching something to his chest looked up with wide eyes at Draco. He felt the presence of someone behind him.

“Is there a problem, Mr. Malfoy?” Snape’s smooth voice drawled behind him.

“I think so,” he said. “Give. That. To. Me.”

Snape looked between Malfoy and the group that had gathered around the boy, and he knew exactly what Draco was thinking; the same thing he was thinking.   The second year slowly handed over a few pieces of paper to Draco, carefully folded in half. Draco snatched it away and opened it, his face expressionless as he, and Snape over his shoulder, saw three familiar images. He folded it and handed it over his shoulder to Snape, his eyes never returning to the group that had been gawking at it.

“You will not speak of this. And if I see you, or any other Slytherin in possession of that again, I will personally hex you into next week,” he growled at them.

The younger Slytherin looked to Snape, their head of house who sighed. “I’m afraid, you are on your own with Mr. Malfoy on this issue,” Snape said, turning and billowing away toward the headmaster.

He returned, seething to his seat between Blaise and Pansy. Crabbe and Goyle were staring at him.

Blaise sighed. “Are you going to tell us what this is about? You’re jumping down the throats of underclassmen, sitting with Harry fucking Potter in the infirmary, and something is going on with Snape.”

Draco sighed, rubbing his forehead. He had a headache blossoming. He knew that things were going to go bad quickly. This was two times he’d seen them in a student’s possession, and one of Ron’s brothers had already come across them as well. And he knew his closest friends were going to jump right into the mix of using such things against their rival, Harry Potter.

“I can’t talk here, and I can’t tell you a story that isn’t mine to tell,” he said with a sigh. “But, meet me outside the infirmary at nine. Just…if someone gives you pictures, take them to Snape, okay?”

Draco looked up to see Snape in a heated discussion with the headmaster. He had a feeling he knew exactly what it was about. The headmaster would want to inform the staff, and they knew that was the last thing Harry wanted. He stood up and, to everyone’s shock, went up to where Snape was arguing with the headmaster in quiet tones. Both looked up at him when he came up.

“Look, let me talk to him, don’t…don’t tell the rest of the teachers until I can get him to agree, okay?” he said softly, getting a nod from Dumbledore and a squeeze to his shoulder from Snape. “I’ll go now,” he finished, and turned and headed to the infirmary, leaving his friends to stare after him.

He knocked lightly and entered to see Ron and Harry animatedly discussing the Quidditch teams for this year and Hermione looking rather bored. She stood up and went over to him while the others discussed sports.

“What’s going on?” she asked.

“We’ve got to get him to agree to let the staff know what’s happened,” he said quietly. “I caught some second year snakes with copies of a couple of those pictures that Neville had. Copies, not originals. We need the staff to be on the look out and get them quickly.”

She paled but nodded, returning to sit down as the other two looked at her and Draco. Draco cleared his throat.

“Harry, I think the other teachers should know what’s going on,” he said quietly.

Harry’s color drained a bit. “But…no, why would they need to know something? They don’t have to know…”

Ron was scowling until Hermione spoke. “Harry, think about it. What if something happens in class? What if you have a nightmare in the tower? What if someone says something and you get upset again? They should know.”

Harry frowned. “I can handle this myself,” he grumbled.

Draco sat down beside him. “Severus thinks it would help.”

“But…what will they think?” he said softly, fiddling with his blanket again. “I mean, I’m disgusting and…”

He felt a pale, long fingered hand encased the one picking at the covers, and looked up to Draco’s silvery eyes. “They won’t think anything other than something bad happened, and you are going to get through it like everything else.”

\----Truths----

“Why are we here?” Pansy asked, annoyed.

Just then, the blur of black robes that was Snape came around and stopped near them, frowning deeply at them. “What are you four doing out here? Get back to the dorms,” he snapped.

Draco stuck his head out just then though and nodded to the potion master.

“Very well, but be in the dorms once you are done here,” Snape said turning and leaving.

The four Slytherin stood there watching him go with shocked expressions as Draco came out of the infirmary. “Wait, what just happened?” Blaise said, turning to Draco. “He was about to lay into us for being out here and he just left?”

Draco shrugged. “He knew you were here to see Harry.”

“And that’s another thing, when did he start being Harry instead of Potter?” Pansy asked with a scowl.

“Look, I don’t know if he’ll talk to you but maybe he will. He needs some friends coming up over the next few weeks, and he cannot, under any circumstances be left alone,” Draco said with a sigh. “Come on, just don’t be asses. He’s not as bad as we figured him to be.”

He led them into the room where Harry was currently playing a game of Wizard’s chess with Ron. Hermione had gone to the library. When the Slytherin group came in, Ron stiffened a bit but smiled at Harry. He knew that Draco was going to take his place for the night.

“Ah, hey mate, you got more visitors. Want to play again tomorrow?” he said with a smile.

Harry leaned back so Poppy could hear him. “I want to play in _my dorms_ tomorrow.”

“Not yet, Harry, one more night!” came the reply, and she came back in and handed him a potion. He looked at it and back at her as she swept the curtain closed around them.

“Always one more night. If you keep saying that, I’ll never leave again. Still?” he whined.

“Until you’ve put on five more pounds, Mr. Potter, you will drink these after each meal and before bed,” she said as he drank down the horrid tasting liquid.

“Why can’t wizards flavor that stuff,” he muttered. “You’d think they could at least make it taste like muggle cough syrup,” he said, rolling his eyes, grabbing his water and chugging it.

He looked after her. “Why five pounds? You can’t count my ribs anymore, doesn’t that mean I’m find to leave?”

She glared at him. “No, Mr. Potter, it does not. The ability to count your ribs does not make you less malnourished, only that you are improving. I would prefer to see some color to you as well, but for that I’ll prescribe long broom rides and Quidditch practice in the sun.”

She swept around the curtain and toward the waiting visitors. She glared at them. “Do not keep him up too late, Mr. Malfoy. Are you staying with him tonight or is Professor Snape?”

“I will tonight, Madam Pomfrey, I’ll take one of the extra beds,” Draco said, earning a surprised glance from his group. Things were getting weirder and weirder.

She nodded and pointed toward the curtained bed. “The dreamless sleep and calming draught are on the tray by his bed. Use them only if you need them. He’s already had far too many of both, but we will do what we must or he’ll never sleep. I’ll be in my attached quarters, tap the call button with your wand if you need me.”

“Draco?” came Harry’s voice tentatively.

“Yeah, Harry, I brought my friends if that’s okay,” he queried before moving. There was a long pause.

“Um, yeah, I guess…” came the reply.

Draco nodded and gestured four very confused Slytherin forward. Draco pulled the curtain open and flopped into the chair beside him. He waved his wand and conjured three more and the others slowly sat down, glancing between Harry and Draco. Harry was avoiding their glances and looked to Draco for an explanation. He wasn’t sure how he felt about being bombarded with people. But he knew he should get used to that, since he’d be around more in class.

“I thought it was time you got to know these twits,” Draco said smoothly. “On my case about not spending enough time with them, so I brought them down here. Sev saw them, and I thought their eyes would pop. So we have to tell them something.”

Harry smiled softly. “Well, Severus scares everybody,” he said softly.

“I give up!” Blaise said throwing his hands up. “Has everyone fallen under Potterspell or something? You’ve got Draco and Snape now doing what you want?”

Harry looked at the Italian and wanted to say something but he looked to Draco instead, who rolled his eyes. “I swear Harry,” he muttered. “I don’t know what you want me to tell them, so I haven’t told them anything.”

Harry nodded, playing with the hem of his blanket again. “I don’t know. I’d rather not tell them anything at all.”

Draco sighed. “Harry. The trial will be in the papers soon. Father tried his best, but it will be there.”

“Already?” Harry said with a sigh. “I’d hoped a month or two…”

“Harry, when it comes out public, you’ll need some people to help. You know how bad the gossip will get. I think it is smart to include some of us Slytherin in that plan,” Draco said seriously.

Harry had to admit to the merit of that. He didn’t doubt a hefty amount of scorn and jeering would come from the Slytherin otherwise. He looked at Draco. “I can’t…” he said softly. “I just can’t…”

Draco nodded. “That’s fine. I will do it. I swear to Merlin, Harry…you’d fall apart without me. And that’s fucking weird to say.”

Four sets of eyes looked on him waiting. He took a breath. “So, yeah, Harry has this abusive sick fucking muggle pedophile for an uncle. Guess the Ministry wanted him there, and Sev…er Snape found out because he did this potion in class and everyone in that class found out what happened to Harry. He ran off, I got him here, and he was in pretty bad shape, and got healed. Now his uncle is being tried between the muggle and wizard worlds. He’ll get put in a muggle prison before it’s over. The details won’t be released, but the charges are enough that everyone will know pretty clearly what happened to Harry, and those will no doubt be published.”

There was a moment. “And when Snape found out, he got ahold of my father and pushed through a guardianship change for Harry, and now he’s under Snape’s care as his ward until the summer at least, if Harry wants a different guardian at that point. The Ministry isn’t happy, but since his previous home is gone, they have little choice but to accept what’s happened.”

The four absorbed it. Pansy’s eyes widened. “What kind of charges? I mean, how long will he go away?”

Harry felt his face flush and he was getting agitated. Draco put a hand on his hand again, stilling it. “Whatever they can throw at him. His defense pleaded guilty yesterday after he was shown videotaped evidence that the classless fucker kept. But I’m sure Monday or Tuesday will see the whole of the charges listed in the prophet. They want this done quickly for Harry’s benefit. My father is pushing it quickly. Snape, as Harry’s guardian is standing in at the trials and using the memories that he’s gathered from Harry.”

By now, Harry had slunk down as low in the bed as he could and was staring at the ceiling intently. “I just want to go to my own bed,” he muttered, yawning, his eyes slipping closed again. Draco looked over and snorted.

“She snuck sleeping potion in with his nutrient potion again,” he muttered.

“Wait, you called him a pedophile…” Pansy said, looking up at Draco. “You mean…he…and that’s what he videoed?”

Draco nodded. “The worst is there are pictures and they’ve already hit the school, but Harry doesn’t know it yet. Someone in the Ministry is out to keep Harry off balance and under their control. My father is trying to figure out who and why. We think it has to do with you-know-who.”

Draco reached out and picked up one of Harry’s arms and muttered _Finite_. The glamours faded and the others leaned forward. Among other scars, there were perpendicular cuts across his forearms. It didn’t need to be said that they were self-inflicted.

“I don’t know if he tried to kill himself, but from what Sev…Snape said and what I’ve seen in those pictures that I got off those second years, I wouldn’t be surprised. He’s mortified that anyone found out. He was willing to go back just to be sure no one knew what had happened to him. It was an accident we found out, but it isn’t an accident if we don’t help him and he does something stupid.”

Blaise looked up at his relaxed face, messy black hair falling into his eyes at odd angles. “I don’t understand why, he’s Harry Potter, he’s famous, probably the most famous wizard besides Dumbledore and you-know-who…why…”

“Blaise, he didn’t even know he was a wizard until Hagrid picked him up when he was eleven,” Draco said. “They beat him every time he accidently used magic. They wanted him to be scared and alone, and that’s what they got.”

They spoke a bit longer, mostly about how to handle the other students when Harry did go back to his classes. They agreed to speak with someone from Huffelpuff and Ravenclaw and also with Snape about their plans to do so. After a while, they headed out. Draco transfigured his clothes into pajamas and made his bed more comfortable, then slipped into it beside his…friend. He smiled at the thought. Yeah, they were friends now.

_“No one will ever love you, you freakish thing,” the words stung worse than the belt leaving bruising stripes across his back. “No one loves a freak, that’s why you got left here,” he continued._

_He was eight years old and he knew his parents were drunks that died in a car accident and hated him so much they left him with someone that didn’t want him. He’d been told that so many times, he had no choice but to believe it. Even as in his mind he saw her face and the brilliant green flash and everything that meant love died in front of him._

_“No!” he screamed. “She loved me! She did…she died in that green light!” he choked among the pained sobs. He shouldn’t have said it. He knew what would happen. The rain of blows fell harder, then the hand on his neck, dragging him up and against him._

_“This is the only ‘love’ you deserve, freak,” the hot, moist breath hissed across his ear and he fell into choked screams again, this time his upper arm cracking under the pressure, and all he thought was that he was dying and screaming._

“Harry!” a voice pierced the veil and he screamed and sat up, breath heavy, eyes still wet.

He turned and saw Draco leaning over the bed.   His heart beat quickly, the adrenaline from the dream sitting heavy on his chest. Draco reached for him, only to have him flinch violently back. He hesitated, but it was obvious he was panicking. So he took the chance and went with what he felt was right. He dropped beside him and wrapped arms around the smaller boy, pulling him against him despite the desperate pull to get away.

“Hey, Harry, hush, it’s Draco, remember? No one is going to hurt you here, remember?” he said softly, earning a slight relaxation in the body he was holding and then he turned and buried his face in his chest.

Draco was shocked, to say the least as he wrapped his arms around his waist in a deathgrip and sobbed into him. At first he wasn’t sure what to do. Then he rested a hand on his back and started petting his hair as he spoke random things that left Draco cold.

“Why can’t they love me…I wanted it so much…I did anything…just to feel something…anything…” he choked out finally.

Draco kept murmuring nonsense things to him, settling in on the bed and snatching his wand, ready to get a potion from the tray but then realized Harry had fallen back to sleep against him, his arms still wound tightly around him. He smiled down and _accio’d_ a pillow and put it against his the wall to lean back and fall asleep himself.

As Saturday morning dawned, Poppy went to check on her patient and stopped with a smile. Draco leaned back on the bed, head tilted back and mouth hanging open in sleep. One hand rested on Harry’s head, which was laying in his lap, and the other rested against the boy’s back. Harry himself had buried his face in the Slytherin’s stomach and his breathing was even. She smiled and put a finger to her lips as Snape opened the door. He frowned and looked at what she was looking at. Despite himself, the dungeon bat smiled.

He looked at her and nodded. “Let them sleep, I’m headed to the staff meeting.”

Draco spoke up then quietly. “Tell them, Uncle Severus,” he said, hand running through the black head in his lap. “They have to keep those pictures away from Harry. Even if he knows, he can’t see them. It would destroy him.”

Snape nodded, understanding completely. “Okay, your father is coming to the meeting; I figured we’d have to let them know since the Prophet will have the story early this coming week.”

\-----Truths----

The Saturday staff meeting started as usual and then towards the end Dumbledore sighed and met Snape’s eyes.

“And now we have a more personal matter to speak of, as I’m sure you have all noted several students regularly missing classes over the last few days,” he said with a sigh.

“Yes, I saw Potter was in the infirmary,” Moody said softly. “And seems Granger, Malfoy, and Weasley are often with him excused as well.”

“I would indeed like to know what some of my prominent Gryffindors are suddenly disappearing,” Minerva said, frowning at Dumbledore.

Snape nodded. “Yes, it came to my attention in class that there were some…difficulties with Mr. Potter’s living arrangement. He has since been transferred into my care.”

There was a general murmur of disbelief.

“You? Took on care for _Harry Potter?”_ came a disbelieving Minerva. “You don’t even like the boy!”

“And what in the world does that have to do with him being in the infirmary?” Sprout’s voice piped in.

Dumbledore held up his hands. “Harry, it seems, was the subject to some severe abuse in his care of the Muggles he lived with. This included sexual abuse.”

There was a collective gasp, leading to Minerva fixing Albus with a stare that would light fires. “You said he was safest there.”

He cleared his throat. “It appears I was wrong, Minerva, and we are trying to fix the situation. The Ministry has tried to fight us on the issue, but that’s not why this has been brought up today. Obviously, Severus taking on guardianship is important information, but Harry has been kept in the infirmary because of an infection he developed as a result of his assault, as well as having some older injuries fixed. But the problem is that there appear to be photographs circulating of Harry.”

“Photographs?” Flintwick asked, with a frown.

Snape cleared his throat. “His uncle wanted to ensure his silence. In the event he was arrested, he had photographs of what he had done to him released. Considering that they showed up in Knockturn Alley the day after his uncle was taken into custody by the Muggle police, we are sure that there is someone in the Wizarding world that the despicable man had contact with. They have since shown up here.”

There was a disbelieving silence. “You’re saying that not only did his uncle molest him, he took pictures of it?” Minerva asked.

Snape handed her a folder. She opened it and her eyes widened and she looked ill. “The copies were confiscated form a couple second year snakes. The photos were sent by Mr. Longbottom’s grandmother who found them being sold in Diagon Allley.”

“But…why…what good does this do? Oh my gods on high,” the head of Gryffindor said with a gasp, closing the file and passing it to whoever sat beside her.

They heard a rustle and Lucius Malfoy approached from the main door. Dumbledore nodded at him. “It would seem that his Uncle was well paid by someone, someone in the Ministry,” Lucius said as he got closer.

There was a long silence. “Lucius, what do you mean?” Snape asked. “You found evidence?”

The Malfoy lord seated himself comfortably among the professors in an empty chair, ignoring the stares of surprise and some of dismay. “Yes, but we still don’t know who. The funds were transferred to muggle banks, and then at least three times, before they went to Vernon Dursley’s account. From what we’ve gleaned from the filthy pig of an uncle, he was paid to ‘cow’ the boy from early on,” he said with a sneer to his voice. “Under truth serum, he told us that he never had a name, and only letters now and then, and money would show in his account each month except when Harry was in school. He confessed to everything and more,” he nearly choked in a very un-Malfoy way when he remembered the interview with him.

“What exactly did they ask of him in return for the money?” Minerva said, seeing the equally shocked and disgusted faces as the folder was passed around.

“He was told to ‘keep him in line’, ‘give him reason to love Hogwarts’, ‘show him no affection or favoritism’, ‘keep him under control’ and ‘treat him as a burden’. Apparently, Dursley had no problem with any of that, and decided beating the boy was the best way to go about it. Molestation and rape were the next steps in his mind to keeping the boy under his control, to punish him for having magic, and prove he was better than him. This satisfied his benefactor, because he gleefully said he got a bonus the first time he took the initiative to rape the boy and a letter stating he was doing well.”

There was a stunned silence around the table. “So you’re saying, not only is someone in the Ministry guilty of paying this…this awful human being to do these things, they were happy when the abuse escalated? And praised him? And then when he was caught released these awful things into the wizarding public?” Minerva couldn’t wrap her head entirely around what she was hearing. “What purpose?”

“To break his spirit, of course,” Snape said with a sigh. Everyone looked at him with furious eyes. He shook his head. “An abused individual is a pliant individual. They are easy to influence, and will take quickly to those that show them true affection. Harry latched onto the first friends that showed him unconditional kindness. He listens unerringly to what the headmaster says and trusts him implicitly. The Ministry wants you-know-who eradicated, and they want Harry to do just that, but they want no questions asked by him. They want him to do as he’s told, and nothing else. They want him to walk to his death.”

“What?” was the mutual cry.

Dumbledore rubbed his head. “The only way for Voldemort to die completely, may come at the cost of Harry’s life. We are trying to find out any way to avoid it, but the Ministry knows this, and is more than happy to sacrifice him if it means Voldemort will die. Unlike Severus and I, they have no interest in trying to discover another way to rid the world of the dark lord.”

The murmured talk escalated until Dumbledore waved his hands again for silence. Everyone turned to him. He looked up then to see Poppy entering the room.

“Poppy,” he acknowledged. “You have some news about Harry?”

She sighed. “Albus, I’m at a loss. The person from St. Mungo’s will be here later, and I think he should stay in the infirmary until then. He’s currently tangled with Mr. Malfoy, so I’ve left him to come speak with the rest of you about his current condition.”

Lucius let a smile play at his slips. “He seems to have taken with my son, especially since all they’ve done is fight since the day they met…” he muttered, getting looks from everyone at the table. He rose his voice. “What is it, then?”

She glanced at him, confused then around. “I’ve healed everything I can physically. He’s fine, better than ever, but he’s having nightmares, which is how the young Mr. Malfoy ended up comforting him and is now having difficulty dislodging him. We decided it was better to let him be, so Draco has had his breakfast brought by a house elf for now. Draco brought some of the Slytherin to see Harry yesterday,” and as expected there were some exchanged glances. “They seemed confused, but Draco is quite convincing when he wants to be, so they soon decided to agree to Draco’s plans.”

“Draco’s plans?” Snape asked with an amused smirk.

She smiled. “He’s decided that he’s going to build a group so that no one can get to Harry, people he wants to intercept problems before they happen. He’s recruited Mr. Zabini, Ms. Parkingson, Mr. Goyle, Mr. Crabbe, and shortly Mr. Nott. He’s also been talking to Mr. Longbottom, Ms. Granger, and Mr. Weasley in a peaceable manner.” This got stares. “Apparently, house rivalry is less important to the children than this situation. They’ve decided to also speak with Ms. Lovegood and possibly Mr. Diggory of the other two houses. Draco believes that if there are students in each house intercepting the…evidence…that the staff doesn’t catch, there is less chance that Harry will have to face it.”

There was murmured consent among the group. She sighed. “I also am sure that Harry should have an escort at all times. I don’t know if you noticed Severus, but he has glamours covering some of his scars. I’m not even sure if he realizes he’s doing it. He’s got signs of obvious self-inflicted injuries.”

Snape nodded. He’d noted the glamours but things had been too hectic to deal with them. “Very well, another question, should he return to the Gryffindor dorms?”

He was met with silence. “I really don’t think so. He’s going to have a difficult time with people, especially when they find out everything. I think it would be better if he was given space of his own, with someone in close reach,” Poppy finally said.

Snape nodded. “As I’m his guardian, Albus, would it be permissible for him to stay in the extra room in my quarters?”

Dumbledore nodded. “Gain his consent, first, Severus. We don’t want to seem like we are forcing him into something.”

Snape nodded, realizing that he was right. “Of course.” He closed his eyes. This was not going to be easy. He really wasn’t made for taking care of someone else. He wished the boy had been discovered by anyone else at this point. Minerva would have been much better at this…


	5. Close Contact

Snape took a breath. This was perhaps the most nerve wracking thing he’d been through in a long time. Of course, it didn’t show on his face. He was beginning to see how incredibly…fragile Potter was right now, which was nothing like his father. If he could just get that blasted man’s face out of his head every time he set eyes on Potter…no Harry. He would have to focus on the one thing that was _not_ James Potter in the boy. He’d have to focus on Lily’s eyes. There was nothing else to be done about it because he could not let Lily’s child suffer. _Lily’s child._ He had to forget that he was Potter’s son no matter how much the blasted boy looked like his sire. He nodded and opened the infirmary door. The healer from St. Mungo’s was coming today with a mind healer. Poppy was an efficient Medi-witch, but she was no healer.

He also needed to inquire if the boy would stay with him instead of the dorms. He hoped the mind healer would support him on the issue. Going to the dorms was the last thing he should do right now. He was amused to find Harry and Draco discussing Quidditch amicably with Weasley. That was perhaps something he’d never thought he’d see in his lifetime. He shook his head and came into the room.

“Professor,” Weasley said, shifting uncomfortably under the dark gaze of the man.

“Mr. Weasley,” he drawled and smiled at Harry, who looked up hesitantly. “Harry, I needed to ask if you would prefer to move to more private quarters instead of returning to your dorms.”

Harry blinked and to Snape’s surprise nodded slowly. “That…that would be better…” he said softly.

“Mate, you sure? You’ve got me and Neville in the dorms…” Ron said, frowning.

Harry shook his head. “Once the Prophet has the story…I’m not going to get a moment’s peace. I…I’d rather not be subject the scrutiny every day in my own rooms…”

Snape smiled inwardly. “Very well, then since I’ve assumed your guardianship, I wish to offer you the extra room in my own rooms. You will have as much privacy as you need, but I can aid you if you need anything.”

He saw Harry stiffen, knowing that the thought of being in close proximity to an adult male right now was difficult for him. “You do not have to decide now,” he assured, looking up as a pair of women entered the infirmary and went to Poppy’s office.

Ron stood. “Ah, Mate, I’m going to go now, okay?” he said waving to them as he left. Draco remained by his side.

Soon, the two women returned with Poppy and smiled at Harry.

“Harry, these are the healers from St. Mungo’s. Anastace would like to do a full exam on you and then Constance will sit and talk to you.”

Harry’s eye twitched. “You did an exam, I…I don’t need another...” he said staring at the new woman. She was tall with brown hair and a kind face.

“I’m not a healer, Harry. If you prefer, I can give you a potion to put you in a somewhat asleep state,” Poppy said softly.

“But it’s a diagnostic spell again, right?” he said, suddenly quite apprehensive.

The woman, Anastace, smiled gently. “Harry, spells can only reveal so much. I will use spells, but a physical exam is necessary as well.”

At this point he started trembling and Draco reached up and clasped his hand. “Harry, you’ll be fine. I can stay if you want.”

The two healers exchanged glances. “Are you and Mr. Potter together, Draco Malfoy, was it?” the mind healer asked softly.

Harry’s eyes widened and he shook his head. “N-no…I’m not together with anyone…I don’t…I mean…no one would want to be with me after _that…_ ”

Draco scowled at him. “Harry, don’t be ridiculous.”

Harry stared at the blond in utter shock as tears started to brim in his eyes. “B-but…no, I’m…tainted…dirty…no, it’s not something I w-want anyone to d-deal with…” he said softly, his eyes dropping.

“Mr. Malfoy, please, let me commence the exam. Harry, drink this, I think it would be better for you, okay?” the healer said, handing him a potion.   He shook as he took the small vial and drank it down. Within minutes his eyes were glassy and he was completely dazed.

The healer ushered everyone except the mind healer and Poppy out as she closed the curtains. Snape led Draco to the seats away from the curtained bed area to wait. There was murmured discussion but they could tell a charm was around it to muffle the words heard from outside.   Draco looked up to Snape.

“Why do they have to do this? I thought Poppy already did this…” he said softly.

“The charges are severe, Draco. They have to have his condition confirmed by a neutral party like St. Mungo’s, and also to ensure there is no long term damage that Poppy has missed. Between infections he has probably had and the severe malnourishment, it has to be done,” he answered.

After about twenty minutes the healers and Poppy emerged, Anastace holding a clipboard that her quill was scribbling notes on. They came over to the pair sitting and waiting.

“I’ll be taking this back with me, I’m very glad you have gotten him from the situation. The abuse was severe, and I think that a non-magical child would have died long ago,” she commented.

“What does that mean?” Draco asked, frowning at her.

She smiled. “Harry has a strong magical core, very strong in fact; he’ll make a powerful wizard one day, perhaps more powerful than Dumbledore. From an early age his magic sought to protect him. Subtle things, staunching internal bleeding, inflating a collapsed lung, turning a break into a fracture, turning a fracture into a sprain, staving off starvation… He has no idea his magic did these things, but it happens sometimes. That is part of what my exam shows that is different than Madam Pomfrey. I can trace the things that cannot be seen because magic has healed them. I-I’ve never had a case like this, Professor Snape. Please tread carefully.”

With that she turned and left leaving Poppy speaking with Constance, the mind healer. She was shorter, with a willowy frame and short blonde hair tipped with purple framing her heart shaped face. Purple eyes belied some creature blood in her family line somewhere. She smiled and came to where they sat now. Her voice was light and calming.

“Professor Snape, Poppy says you are Harry’s legal guardian now?” she said with a smile.

“I am. Unless he decides on a different one,” he said with a nod.

She looked to Draco. “And you are?” she asked.

Draco partly wanted to tell her it was none of her business. He swallowed and shook his head. “A friend, is all.” She gave Snape a knowing glance and he felt a slight smile tug at the corners of his lips. They both hear the unspoken “right now” missing form Draco’s sentence as he glanced to the sleeping form of the raven haired boy.

“Well, I’m going to wake up Harry now and see if we can’t talk some. I’ll ask him if he wants you to stay or go, as his guardian and his…friend,” she said the last with a smile at Snape again. She cast the charm and he blinked and sat up, looking around.

“Is it over? I don’t remember anything…” he said, looking confused.

“Harry, that’s the point. To make this as easy on you as possible. We’re not here to cause you pain, we’re here to help you through this and make the pain go away,” she said softly. “Now, we’re going to talk, and it will get very hard. Do you wish your guardian and your friend Draco to leave now, or would you like them to stay while we talk?”

Harry looked at her. “Can’t you just look at my memories and find what you want?”

She smiled. “Looking at your memories will not heal anything, Harry. I’m here for you, not the people prosecuting your uncle.”

He looked down at his hands. “C-can Draco stay? H-he helps me calm down…” he said softly, looking up to Draco’s silver eyes.

She smiled and nodded. “If you wish,” she said softly and Snape excused himself.

Draco sat down beside his head and immediately had his hand held in a bonecrushing grip. He winced but said nothing as the curtains enveloped them again and the charm to keep others from overhearing anything was cast by the mind healer.

“Now Harry, tell me what led you to come see Madam Pomfrey,” she said, leaning back. There was a magical recorder in her bag that she had started with a little wandless magic.

Harry proceeded to tell her about the incident in the potions class, showing her the poem that the thing had recited. She read it and handed it back. “Why don’t you read it to me?”

He looked like a deer caught in muggle headlights. “What?”

“I’d like you to read it out loud to me. As slow or fast as you like, but read it. Then I want you to tell me what you think it means.”

Harry looked desperately at Draco who only nodded encouragingly at him. “I think that would be a good idea.”

“’The light was stolen in a flash of green’,” he read. “That’s easy; my mom was killed by the killing curse when I was a baby. It’s green when it flashes. ‘Love was sealed and never more mine.’ Um, well, no one ever showed me much love when I grew up, so I guess that’s what that means.” His voice quivered when he went to the next line.

“Um, ‘Hiding in the dark of night behind locked doors,’ because they locked me up all the time. First in the cupboard under the stairs, and then in the small room upstairs. I wasn’t allowed to leave unless they let me out. ‘Telling them all with a fake smile I’m fine.’ Well, I never told anyone, and everyone thought I was happy here, just minor stuff bothering me, like almost getting killed every bloody year here at Hogwarts.”

“Do I have to go on?” he asked in a trembling voice, the hand holding the paper shaking.

“You do not, but I think you should, Harry,” Constance said reassuringly. “Hiding won’t help.”

He nodded. “Okay, I’ll try. ‘Hush, he’s coming; this is the fear, locks click one by one,’ he told me to be quiet that I couldn’t wake up Aunt Petunia or Dudley. And he always unlocked the door really slow, just to make me more scared. ‘Hush child, don’t scream, drip blood and break bone,’ well, I was always left bloody and something was usually broken when he left me. And I couldn’t scream because I’d get hit more. ‘Hush child, just close your eyes and forget,’ I tried so hard to forget what happened, I’d close my eyes and scream inside my head, but that was before. ‘Hush child, and let the world die, and then die alone.’ I guess I assumed he’d kill me. I knew he would one day.”

Again he paused. “’Blood dripping and sliding to release the pain, Crimson like tears and dripping through the floor.’ I’m guessing you saw through the glamours. I cut myself because I felt so numb it hurt. ‘No one to make it stop, before this throat bleeds raw.’ I did scream when he…he…did _that_. And…and…sometimes I’d wake up and cough dried blood in th-the morning and I could barely talk. ‘Gone, weight lifted, but the pain remains, click locks the door.’ He-he’d crawl off me, and I had to stay there, couldn’t leave even to w-wash…and then lock the door.” Harry was visibly shaking now. Draco grabbed both his hands in his own.

“You are doing so wonderful, Harry. You are being very brave. I would like you to continue if you think you can,” Constance said gently.

He nodded. “’Night terrors that are all too real come to choke Around the thoughts that would try to rise.’ I started having nightmares and…and then if I woke them up screaming…he’d come beat me with the belt until I couldn’t even speak. ‘Innocence lost too early before it had a chance, And then the nightmare comes, never dies.’” Here Harry did stop. “I…I was seven the first time,” he said in a choked voice. “And I…I was ten when he did _that._ ” Draco couldn’t help but the emphasis on the word and he knew both he and the healer knew what _that_ was.

“’Dive away, dive to the depths of two worlds. Slip and slide and get away between two worlds.   
Expectation runs high and this child is not enough.’ When I came here everyone knew me and expect so much out of me, and I’m stuck between the muggle world and the wizarding one and I’m scared of getting lost between the two. ‘Not when the stains are too deep and disgusting.’ I’m…I’m used up, dirty and I can’t save myself, so how can I save the wizarding world?” he said softly, feeling Draco’s hand tense at the words he spoke.

“’Waiting for summer’s end is all there is after all.’ Kinda obvious. I suffered through the summer to come home in the fall. ‘Not good enough for what they want.’ I wasn’t able to make them all happy ever…” he said quietly. “’Not enough, used and tossed away into the fall.’ Uncle Vernon loved to get rid of me, using me up in the summer and sending me away. ‘Not enough when there’s no one to help it, Not enough when there’s no one to stop it, Not enough when there’s no one to dry the tears. Not enough when there’s no one to keep away fears.’ I never had anyone to help me, not with the nightmares, not when I cried in pain. No one cared, they just left me there with those horrible people, and they…they didn’t care!” he said, almost yelling. “They never cared, they left me there, and I…I know if someone cared they’d have seen, how could they not see?”

“’The monster’s in the dark, the monster’s too real, And alone, alone, always alone, left to feel.’ He…he’s the monster, he’s the monster in the dark, and…and he told me…th-that I…I liked what he did, but…but I never did! I never liked it! He-he s-s-said that I-I-I begged for it, asked f-for him to…to…” he stumbled over the words, eyes frantic and looking around him.

“To what, Harry?” came the soft voice of the woman beside him.

“To do _that_ ,” he said again, eyes wide. “I never asked…not for _that_. He-he said that I d-did because I-I was a freak th-that didn’t know wh-what I was asking for when I did things…things that w-were against the rules. Th-that breaking th-the rules was asking him to…to…do _that._ ”

Constance was quiet a moment. “And what were those rules, Harry? Can you tell me the rules?”

Harry swallowed thickly. “D-Don’t talk. Breakfast done by 7:30 in the week and 9 on the weekend. No lunch on weekdays, but by noon on the weekend. Dinner at 6pm sharp. Don’t burn anything, don’t undercook anything. Clean the kitchen and do the list of chores. But the chore list was too long every time! I couldn’t finish it, I never finished it…” he said breathlessly. “Don’t talk act like I belong. Don’t keep anything. I can’t own the things, I’m using their house, so I have to pay, pay for the room, pay for the food. Don’t snitch food. Don’t…don’t use hot water in the shower. Don’t use the soap in the shower. Don’t touch Dudley’s things. Don’t make things happen…but how do you stop them when you don’t know how?” he asked, desperately. “I…I didn’t know! How could I know? I exploded a vase, or turned the wall pink, and…and that…that…meant that I w-was such a…a freak, just like my freak m-mother…and I had to stop but it g-got worse when I got mad…I broke the window across the street…and…and oh that hurt so much…he…he broke my arm for that…”

Harry was sure that he was going to pass out. So much was falling from his mouth, and not just the rules. “And…and…and…there was so much I had to do. How could I do it all? I had to clean so much stuff, and Dudley…he’d make messes just…just to get me in trouble…and then…then he’d come after dark…and do _that_ …”

Constance nodded. “Harry, I need you to tell me what he did.”

He looked up horrified. “He did _that…_ ” he said as if it was self-explanatory.

“Harry, I know what you are talking about, but you need to admit it to yourself, and not to me. You’re going to have to admit it and come to terms with it,” she said softly.

“But-but it was because of what I did…what I didn’t do, if…if I’d been better…if I wasn’t a freak…then maybe…maybe he wouldn’t have done _that_ to me, and maybe…maybe…he would have l-l-l-l-lo…” he trailed off, biting into his lower lip.

Constance nodded. “You wanted him to love you, didn’t you Harry? You wanted your family to love you.”

He nodded sadly. “E-even after th-that first time wh-when he t-t-touched me, I thought if I was a good boy, and…and t-t-touched him like h-he said…then maybe it would stop, that he, they, would th-think I was good…good enough to be loved!” His eyes were overflowing now, and Draco sat with wide eyes, his thumbs rubbing circles on the back of his hands gently.

“But...but then…when he…he…he…” He was trying to say it. He was really trying hard. Saying it would make it real, blatantly, loudly clear. It was like avoiding what _that_ was he could just pass it off like another whipping with the belt. He shook his head in frustration.

“He-he said that I was…was n-never going to be loved by anyone, ever…because I…I was his…his…his slut…” he choked on the words his uncle had whispered in his ear so many times. “That…that…I w-was queer already b-because I was the w-w-worst kind of freak…l-l-liked th-that he said….that when I yelled and fought it…it meant I liked it…and made him like it more too…and I believed him! I believed him, and I d-didn’t even know what queer meant! I was ten years old!” he choked on a sob then. “He-he laughed…and…I couldn’t…couldn’t lift him, I was so small and weak, and hadn’t eaten…and…he’s so much bigger than me, even now, even now I couldn’t stop him, I couldn’t get him off me, I’m a wizard, how can I let that happen? Now how can I let _that_ happen?” he was rocking slightly now, his tears dry but shoulders shaking with silent sobs.

“Harry, you are a strong wizard, but did you have your wand?” Harry shook his head.

“And are you allowed to do magic outside the school even if you had your wand?” he shook his head again.

“And do you know wandless magic? Or silent magic?” Harry frowned and shook his head.

“So tell me Harry, is there any way being a wizard was going to help you?” she said softly.

Harry started to argue. “I…I don’t know,” he said finally. “B-but I could have fought him harder…” he said, tears brimming again.

“Harry, from what I saw he outweighed you by almost two hundred pounds. Tell me, even at peak Quidditch season, can you lift up three hundred or more pounds above your head?”

“Of course not,” he responded before he thought and then looked up at her. “Oh,” he said softly. It was true. He was thin and wiry, the ideal seeker, smooth muscles with fast reflexes, not thick like someone like Ron with broad shoulders and chest.

“So, being a wizard couldn’t help you. And being an athlete here at school couldn’t help you.”

“But I could have run…or…or sent a note…or…” he stammered.

“Did you ever have enough to eat in order to run? And would the muggle police have brought you home if you ran away?” she said softly.

Harry shrugged. “I guess…but…”

“Harry. You aren’t at fault. You didn’t do anything. This was done _to_ you,” she said softly.

Finally he looked up and gave a great gasp. “But why?”

“I don’t know Harry, I wish I did. People, wizards and muggles alike, sometimes do things that are terrible for no other reason than they want to cause someone pain.”

Harry closed his eyes. “So…I didn’t deserve it? Be-because m-my mom died to protect me…If I was never born, she wouldn’t have died, and neither would dad, and…”

“Harry, you cannot blame yourself for something that happened when you were fifteen months old. You cannot blame yourself because no one seemed to have the foresight to realize that magic hating muggles were the worst place to put a magical child. You cannot blame yourself because your uncle decided that he wanted to use his power over you. You cannot blame yourself for any of it,” she said softly.

Harry was quiet for a long time, his head spinning and he realized with horror that Draco was still there. He was sitting still, his hands folded around his trembling ones. And he didn’t look disgusted at all. He wasn’t disgusted by what he’d become…

“I...I didn’t deserve it,” he said finally.

Constance nodded. “Not at all, Harry. Not at all.”

“I…I didn’t deserve to be hit…or to be touched…or to work like a house elf…or…or to be burned…or made touch…or…or made to…to…” His breath hitched again, an image of his uncle forcing pleasure from him after he had become an adolescent.

“Did he touch you and make you have pleasure, Harry?” she said quietly, knowing the look. The utter shame at being forced into an unwanted pleasure and being told that it was proof he really wanted it to happen. Harry’s eyes widened.

“Harry, a body responds whether a mind wants it to or not, especially teenage boys. It doesn’t mean you wanted it, or you enjoyed what he did,” she assured, and saw the panic start to flee from his eyes. “You couldn’t stop it even if you tried your hardest, Harry. Our bodies don’t work like that. The right stimulation and it happens.”

                “I didn’t want it…and he’d do _that…_ then he’d hold my…my…and it was wrong…I was in so much pain and he’d make me do that…and keep…keep touching and…and do _that_ again…if I didn’t…didn’t…” he said his eyes vacant and tearless again.

                Draco’s hands had tightened around his and Constance caught the hurt in the blond haired boy’s face. It was obvious the other boy cared about the broken boy in the bed. She hoped it would help. But before anything could happen, Harry had to come to terms with the idea none of it had been his fault. The self-blame and guilt would utterly destroy him.

                “Harry, we’re almost done tonight. But I’ll be back on Monday evening to talk to you again. But now I want you to tell me what you didn’t deserve. What happened, Harry, that wasn’t your fault?” she said quietly.

                “It...It’s not my fault…that he hurt me, that he beat me with belts, and paddles and spoons, that he touched me, and…and made me touch him…” As he said the words, Harry knew that as reluctant as they were coming from his mouth, they were becoming more solid, and he was becoming able to believe them a little bit. Maybe he hadn’t deserved what happened. Just maybe he could blame his uncle and not himself. “It wasn’t my fault that he…he did _that…_ that he made me put my mouth on him…and lick him…and that he…he r-raped me…” he said and his shoulders sagged, utter exhaustion coursing through him.

                Words are strange things. They hold so much power. Admission of guilt, assertions of innocence, they can be spoken so many ways. And a lie often repeated becomes very real. So it is that pushing things away with refusal to admit them can hinder the recovery from that very thing. The power of words is ignited when used to admit our darkest fears in the light of day.

                And so, as the mind healer left, unlocking the curtains, and releasing the charms, Harry fell into a sleep with his hands clutching the blonde’s hands beside him for dear life. His heart was full but breaking at the same time, and he was simply too tired to think anymore. Draco took up the bed, and scooted it somewhat closer to Harry’s. After the session with the mind healer, he thought he might be in for a long night.

\---Truth----

                Rita Skeeter was over the moon. She giggled as she flooed into the editor’s office with a grin plastered to her face, making the man a little nervous.

                “I’ve got the Sunday edition covered,” she said, dropping a hand full of papers on the desk.

                There was a satisfied chuckle from the editor and they set to work. It was late in the day, but by morning, the front page would announce Rita’s findings and shoot ratings up the scale.

_Boy-Who-Lived A Victim?  
Rita Skeeter_

_It came to my attention through a contact with the Ministry of Magic, that one, Harry Potter, the Boy Who Lived, may have a secret that none of us could fathom. We all know the school year has just begun at Hogwarts, where Potter is beginning his fourth year of study. The new this year coming from the school really should be centered around the coming Tri-Wizard tournament. And while this is important, this story is downright shocking and calls into question the supervision of one child who was orphaned due to you-know-who._  
                Mr. Potter was left with muggles (yes! Can you imagine this; I was shocked beyond belief that the famous Harry Potter was raised by Muggles!). But even worse, they hated magic! His aunt, one Petunia Dursley, formerly Evans (sister to Lily Potter, nee Evans), was given physical custody of the boy as an infant after he survived the killing curse. Petunia Dursley, who I managed to interview yesterday, informed me that the boy was left in a basket with no instructions other than his mother was dead. She expressed hatred and jealously toward her sister, and then toward the boy who started showing accidental magic at an early age. She said her husband especially hated having the boy there, convinced they could “beat the freakishness out of him” if they tried. To my horror, she detailed how the boy was treated until he was picked up by the groundskeeper of Hogwarts. I daresay, I know of house elves among dark wizards who are treated better. (There is a detailed account of my interview with Petunia Dursley on page five).  
                I was unable to contact the uncle, Vernon Dursley as he is in custody of muggle police at this time. When I inquired, I was given the official statement. The following are the list of charges currently levied against Harry Potter’s uncle: Child endangerment, child neglect, abuse of a minor, educational neglect, and the most shocking, sexual assault of a minor and possession, distribution and creation of child pornography. The investigation has been completed and the trial set up for two weeks from now. This was a combined investigation between the muggle and wizarding worlds.  
             What this reporter wants to know is why was the boy not put into a good wizarding family? Personally, I have to wonder at the intentions of the light, if they would put a small child into this situation. My Ministry sources seemed adamant that Professor Albus Dumbledore, headmaster of Hogwarts and Magical guardian of Harry Potter, may not have been aware of his home situation. When asked how that could be, I was told that there were blood wards set on the house, by the sacrifice of Potter’s mother when he was an infant, and that it may be possible that until now, the boy was unable to reveal his problems. My source would not reveal more, but it seems that someone wanted to ensure the boy was kept where he was. My investigation continues, but please see pages three and seven for some guest speculation on whom, and why, wanted the famous Harry Potter raised among muggles that hated the wizarding world.   
            My source informed me that the young man’s guardianship had already been removed from the Dursley family, much to the dismay of the Ministry officials. His current guardian, surprisingly, has been revealed to be none other than the potion master at Hogwarts, one Severus Snape. Professor Snape refused to be interviewed, and I have been unable to reach the boy-who-lived, who is receiving treatment from St. Mungo’s healers while at Hogwarts.

\--------Consequences-----

Sunday morning, Harry awoke emotionally drained. The session with the mind healer was enough to offset him for a week he thought. He glanced over to see Draco once again sleeping nearby. There was a crack and a house elf set down two trays and left. Draco sat up bleary eyed and yawned. They were about to eat and there was a flurry of activity at the door for a moment, and Ron, Hermione and Blaise tumbled their way in as though they had to push someone out of the way.

Draco and Harry looked up to see very frantic faces. Poppy came out at the commotion. “What’s going on?” she said, glancing at the doorway.

“We left Crabbe and Goyle, out there, Madam Pomfrey,” Blaise said. “There’s a few people trying to get in.”

“What’s going on?” Harry asked. The three newcomers shared a look and handed him the Daily Prophet.

Harry sighed. “I thought I had at least until tomorrow,” he groaned, handing it over to Draco. He looked up to see that Snape had come in with Crabbe and Goyle scowling. He looked to Poppy.

“I sent the gawkers running back to their houses,” he said simply. “Harry, have you…”

Harry didn’t let him finish. “I’d like to take your offer, sir, I’ll take your room, there’s no way I can go to the tower if…if they’re already coming here…”

Snape squelched the annoyance at being interrupted, though his first instinct was to lash out at the brat. He had to stop that. Otherwise, he was going to end up hurting him, and if he did that, he was certain that Sirius or Remus would have his throat. But more than that, he had to take care (where in the world did that desire come from?) of Lily’s child and he was more vulnerable than he had ever been before. He was sure that he was going to do something worthy of Lily’s wrath before this was over…but he could promise the memory of his old friend he would try, for her.

“I’ll have your things moved by one of the house elves. Please come down when you are finished with Madam Pomfrey today,” he said, leaving, seeing the Sunday Prophet on Harry’s lap. He rolled his eyes. That vile woman had even sniffed out the fact he was Potter…Harry’s guardian.

He turned away and swished from the room. It was going to be a tough week, he thought as he headed down to the great hall for breakfast. He seated himself with the rest and felt people staring at him. He rolled his eyes, looking out and saw most of the Gryffindor table glancing at him off and on, and all the Slytherin at some point looked at him. He looked over at Albus who knew what he was thinking. Dumbledore stood.

“Students, please, can I have your attention,” he said in a magically amplified voice. The room quieted and attention turned to him. “I can see that most of you have read the articles presented in the Sunday Prophet. I think it must be addressed…”

“Is it true sir?” yelled a Ravenclaw. “It can’t be true, right?”

“She makes up stuff, doesn’t she?” a Hufflepuff now.

“But Harry hasn’t been around!” a voice from the Gryffindor table called. “And Ron and Hermione keep missing classes too!”

“No way, Professor Snape, you wouldn’t take on Potter?” a Slytherin called.

Snape stood, slapping his hands loudly on the desk. “Silence!” he called, making even his house start. He looked over at Albus who nodded to him.

“This is personal business, but of course the bloody woman decided that the whole of the wizarding world needed to know what is happening in my private life, as well as Harry’s!” he announced, shocking more than a few people into still silence. “So I am going to quell rumors before they start. Yes, the article is true about what happened to him. His uncle is currently awaiting trial in the muggle world. Yes, I have taken over Harry Potter’s guardianship, by his and my choice. And yes, someone in the Ministry is quite unhappy over it.”

Snape flopped down with finality. “Yes, thank you, Professor Snape. Now, please, I would appreciate any individual questions, please come to me or Professor Snape, and I ask that you leave Mr. Potter alone for a while. He will return to classes tomorrow, cleared by Madam Pomfrey and the St. Mungo’s healers. He will not, however, be returning to Gryffindor tower at this time,” Albus informed them, nodding and sitting for his own breakfast.

The hall was silent for a long moment until the murmured discussion among the tables started, some tables crossing between to discuss things among the other houses. Snape didn’t seem to notice that one particular professor was hiding a grin behind his fork as he returned to his meal.

After breakfast, Snape went to check on the progress on Harry’s new room. He glanced around as a house elf sat down a trunk. “That be it, Master Snape,” he said. Snape looked around.

“That’s all he has?” he asked. The house elf nodded and popped away.

He figured he’d at least put the boy’s clothes away. He opened the trunk and started pulling the clothes up magically and frowned. Almost all of them were ripped, torn, and definitely looked too big. The only decent thing the boy had were his wizarding robes and that was it. He knew from the papers he’d gone over from court that the Dursleys were being paid from Harry’s family vaults to care for him. He shook his head and incinerated most of the clothes. He wondered why the boy hadn’t replaced his clothes when he came to school…but then what would happen when he went home in the summer?

He sighed and supposed he should take the boy to get clothes before anything else. It was annoying, as he hated shopping, especially since he preferred muggle clothes to wizarding clothes. So he sucked it up and headed toward the infirmary.


	6. Attempting to Return to Normal

When he returned to the infirmary, Snape found that Harry was sitting in a friendly seeming conversation with Blaise Zabini. Snape paused for a second to watch the interaction between the two boys, and did not miss the obvious glance the Italian boy sent toward Harry when his face was turned. Snape arched a brow. It seemed that his new ward was attracting attention of a friendly sort… He was unsure how to react but since Blaise seemed to go no further than a furtive glance, he would leave it for the time being. He was hoping that the boy had enough tact to not take any initiative anytime soon. The boy was nowhere near ready, and he would tolerate no setbacks this early on.

“Harry,” he said as he stepped up, noting that Blaise started and smiled at him as though he’d been caught. Snape gave him a nod. “We should perhaps stock some clothing, your current wardrobe is…dismal… at best.” Harry gave a weak smile to him, knowing quite well the state of the clothes he had to wear.

Blaise perked up. “I could take him, Professor, if you would prefer not to go,” he said, and Snape thought he was pretty poor at hiding his thoughts.

“I think it would be best if Harry and I went for this trip, we have some other matters to attend to while we are out,” Snape said, keeping his face neutral. Where was this coming from? He thought to himself. He should take the out and let Zabini take him shopping for infernal clothes. But no, now was not the time to allow him to run around Diagon Alley with a fellow hormonal teenager.

Blaise looked somewhat disheartened but nodded. “Have fun, though, Harry, despite not having my company!” he said cheerily and left with a wave. Harry waved back tentatively. Shopping. With Snape. Alone. He thought his heart would stop then and there.

“If you would, Harry, I would like to return before dinner,” Snape said summoning a pile of clothing to his hands and depositing it on the bed. He nodded and pulled the curtain closed for him.

Harry breathed a sigh of relief. He wasn’t going to watch him change. For a brief moment a shock of fear had coursed through him, but to his relief his new care taker was going to give him privacy to change his clothes. He was leery still of his intentions. Some part of him was sure that he was going to strike out at him, or worse. He slipped into a set of his wizarding robes and opened the curtain to find him talking to Poppy.

“I’m ready, sir,” he said softly, looking anywhere but Snape’s face.

“Come, we’ll floo to the Leaky Cauldron. It will be off season so it should not be too busy at this time,” he said giving a curt nod.

He swept away and Harry followed, wringing his hands behind his back as he left. Really, what else could he do? In essence the man was in charge of him. He really couldn’t complain. He was going to help him get away from the Dursleys’ and that was worth its weight in gold, no matter what he was required to do in payment for the act. He shivered at the thought he had a debt to Snape.

He, as usual, nearly fell flat on his face coming out of the floo network. He stumbled into Snape’s arms and was awkwardly set right by the potion master, who looked down at him with a quirked brow.

“Ah, hem, yeah, I don’t travel well by floo,” he muttered, straightening his robes. “That was perhaps more graceful than some of my exits…” he said, smiling sheepishly at Snape.

“Indeed,” Snape commented, then turned and headed out of the entry into the main area of the Leaky Cauldron.

“Professor Snape, how are you?” the man at the bar commented as they moved forward. As soon as Harry became visible though, a hushed silence fell onto the room. It hadn’t been noisy, but the absence of all noise was noticeable.

“Fine,” Snape said, gathering Harry and ushering him out the door, quite aware of the lingering gazes that fell on them.

Harry stumbled a bit, but Snape held onto his upper arm, keeping him upright. He tried to ignore it, he really did, but the second the door closed he heard the murmured conversation begin in the room behind him and felt his heart clench painfully in his chest.

“Calm, Harry,” Snape said, guiding him into a clothing store away from stares in the roadway.

As they entered a bell tinkled and a man, obviously a tailor, came out of the back. “Good day, Professor!” he announced coming forward, bright gray eyes framed by a fringe of bushy silver eyebrows and a light gray moustache. His hair was short and cropped at his jawline and a fine silvery white color.

“And Mister Harry Potter!” he said, smiling at the smaller boy with the potions professor.

“Darren, I’d like to put Harry into a decent wardrobe. His is…lacking. Several casual, a set of formal robes, and a couple semi-formal outfits on the occasion he goes to functions as my ward,” Snape said, dropping into a seat beside a set of mirrors around a platform.

Harry nervously watched the older tailor as he listened. “But of course, Professor. I heard of you taking on the duty, I commend you for attending to his wardrobe needs with me, of course!” he said with a smirk. He turned to Harry.

“Now, Harry, if you’ll strip to your underthings and step onto here so I can take your measurements…” he said, gesturing to the raised platform before the mirrors.

Harry’s eyes widened almost comically and he wrapped his arms over his chest. “N-no…I’m not taking off my clothes.”

“But, son, I need to get your measurements properly…” he said, turning to Snape.

Harry shook his head adamantly. Snape sighed, knowing this was going to occur. “Darren, can I transfigure his clothing to a tighter fit? I’m sure you can work around it.”

The tailor looked at him. “I suppose, though I’ll not be blamed if there are errors!” he said defensively.

“No doubt,” Snape said, waving his wand and Harry’s robes were quickly transfigured into a skin tight set of black clothing.

Harry gasped, not sure that this was any better than being in his underwear, but at least he was covered, even if he looked like he was wearing a wetsuit… He stood up on the raised step and fought the urge to flinch every time the tailor put the tape against him. He was going to do well because he was going given these things and he had to be grateful. To be rude would gain some sort of punishment, he was sure. By the time the man was done he was shaking visibly. He felt his robes transfigured back and his legs went out suddenly.

“Harry?” Snape asked as the boy fell to his knees after Darren was done with him. The boy was shaking harder as he stood and moved toward him after turning his clothes back. “Harry?” He asked again, the boy giving no response the first time. He glanced up and locked eyes with the dark man over him and yelped, nearly falling backward.

“Harry, are you ill?” he asked, feeling somewhat awkward.

Harry scrambled to his feet and moved to sit in one of the seats, nearly hyperventilating. Snape handed him a calming draught that he’d put in his pocket which Harry drank without a word. Finally, he seemed to settle down and looked up at him.

“S-sorry, Professor,” he said softy. “I…he was touching me, and I was trying to…to not think about things.”

Snape sighed. “And you didn’t tell me you were uncomfortable because?” he queried.

Harry looked up, brows drawn together. “You brought me here to do something nice, and I…I didn’t want to upset you by not doing what you wanted me to do,” he said, looking down again.

“Harry, I need you to tell me if something makes you uncomfortable, I cannot read your mind,” he said with an exasperated sigh.

Harry nodded. He looked up and seemed about to ask something, and then looked back down. Snape rolled his eyes again, stifling the urge to slap the boy upside the head. He was glad he had never been a physically violent person at the moment. “Harry, is there something you want to ask?”

Harry nodded, “I…I just wondered if we could stop by the Quidditch store, just to look around?”

Snape nodded slowly. “I intend to visit the Apothecary, perhaps you would like to look in the Quidditch store while I do that? I’m certain you would be more interested in the Quidditch store than the apothecary’s. Darren won’t have the clothes ready for a few hours yet, no reason to wait here.”

Harry fixed him with a smile for the first time, and Snape felt a shard of ice (just a shard mind you) drop from his completely frozen heart. Some piece of him wanted to see the child smile like that again, in a true way that lit up his emerald eyes. “I would like that, sir! I can look at Quidditch stuff forever, probably as long as you could look at potion stuff!”

Snape gave him one of his rare smiles, just hinting at the edges of his mouth, but there nonetheless. “Very well, but you must remain in the store until I return, and then we will have lunch before heading over to Gringott’s to deal with the Potter vaults. I would like to check the status of any remaining investments and accounts as well as the properties associated with your father’s name.”

Harry had no clue, he just hoped for a stop at Honeyduke’s as well. But he’d take the Quidditch store. So, Snape dropped him at the door and headed over a short ways to the apothecary’s to pick up some special ordered items and browse the new inventory they had gotten in recently. He entered and breathed in the heady aroma. There were few places he enjoyed more than this.

Harry, as well, was pleased, perusing the newest equipment, and looking at the magazines detailing the teams and how they were doing. He had been looking around perhaps half an hour or more when someone came up behind him. He moved, assuming they wanted to look at the shelf he was standing at, but found them moved as well. He turned to find himself staring at an older boy, perhaps sixteen or seventeen, who was staring down at him intently. Though an older teen he easily towered over Harry by at least six or seven inches. He had long dirty blonde hair tied back at the nape of his neck and bright blue eyes. Harry swallowed hard.

“Um, hi?” he said, arching a black brow at him.

“Your Harry Potter, huh?” he said with an accent to his voice that Harry was unfamiliar with.

Harry nodded. “Um, yeah…what do you want?” he was nervous but they were in the middle of a public store, so there wasn’t much this guy could do. If he hit him, he’d get in trouble.

“See, I was reading ‘bout you this morning. Seems like you show up in the paper lots,” he said, seeming to press closer. Harry started backing up until he found himself with a solid wall at his back.

“Ah, well I’d rather not be in the papers at all,” he said, his voice cracking as he said it, hand fumbling under his robes for his wand.

“Looking for this?” the taller boy asked, and Harry’s eyes widened. He was holding up his wand. “Yeah, it’s a cheap trick, isn’t it? I’m really good at sleight of hand…”

“Give that back,” he said, with no real venom or threat, and then he saw another boy moving up beside the one holding his wand.

“He looks like a cornered rat,” the second boy, this one equally tall with brown, messy hair and deep brown eyes. He looked scruffy, and his clothes hung on his frame, and definitely looked to need a shave.

“Hum, he does. Good look on him, don’t you think?” the blond said, smirking over his shoulder to the brunette.

Harry was starting to panic. “Look, my guardian is coming back to get me, and I need my wand so we can go back…” he said, looking between the two older boys.

“You mean the old dungeon bat Snape? He went to the Apothecary. He’ll be gone for ages. Long enough for us to have some fun together. Don’t you want to have some fun? By the looks of it, your muggle uncle got you nice and ready for business, I’ve even got some pretty pictures to prove it,” the brunette said and Harry didn’t like the gleam in his eye, knowing all too well what those pictures were going to be.

Harry shook his head violently. “N-no…I think I should go…” he said, and thinking he’d abandon his wand he jerked from the wall and ran square into the body of a third boy. He looked up into the dark eyes of another brunette boy, but this one had beady black eyes that reminded him of a rat’s.

“Don’t run off so soon,” he said, reaching out to touch Harry’s face. “We couldn’t do this?” he said, holding up a picture ripped directly from Harry’s worst nightmares. His heart set a rhythm that was far too fast to be healthy in his chest as his eyes fixed on it. It was one of the later ones, where his uncle had gotten into weird rope tying.

“Ah, get away,” he said, stepping back and feeling the world twist and sway as everything went black, a silent stunner hitting him in the back.

Snape’s usual leisurely perusal of the store was cut short today. He picked up his order, shrunk it, then picked up a few other things he needed, and headed out of the store. He was sure Harry wasn’t kidding when he said he could look over stuff in the Quidditch store forever, but he wasn’t going to leave him alone for long. He entered the shop and frowned to see it decidedly Harry-less. He glanced around, not seeing the shop-keeper either. He moved through to the counter and felt his heart lurch when he saw the stunned body of the shop-keeper behind the counter.   He woke him and he sat up with a panicked look.

“Three boys, they…they were bothering Harry, and I went to go tell them to leave when I got hit with a stun! He drug me behind the counter, I didn’t know anything else!” he said, looking around.

Snape closed his eyes, counting to himself to calm himself. He got a description of the boys and determined they weren’t Hogwarts students, and around seventeen or so. He swept out of the store and glanced to the left and right until he heard a vicious growling sound down an alley a few yards from him. Snape arched a brow wondering if he was really that stupid. The growl returned, a feral quality that Snape was quiet familiar with. He took off and found a huge black dog standing in front of a prone, and unconscious Harry, as the three teens tried to figure a way to get past him.

“You cast it or something,” one said to the others.

“I can’t cast it! Stun him or something! I’m not passing this chance up,” the one with long blond hair announced, aiming a stunning spell at the dog.

Snape snuck around behind all three of them and before they could respond dropped a strong sleeping charm on top of all three of them. Snape then eyed the black dog who sat down and growled at him. Snape rolled his eyes.

“ _Accio_ Harry’s wand,” Snape said, the wand popping out of the pocket of the blonde’s robe.

He tucked the wand into his belt and sighed. The black dog growled at him menacingly.

“Sirius Black, I would very gratefully let you take him right now, if it were not for the fact you’re an escaped prisoner.” This was met with a louder growl. “I cannot change that fact. And do you honestly think I would hurt Lily’s child?” he said, growling right back at the abnormally large canine. This was met with a resigned wimper. The dog stared at him, then licked at Harry’s face affectionately.

“As much as it pains me, you are his godfather, and I am glad you are watching out for him. I take it you’ve heard what happened?” There was a tilt of the head. “Read the Prophet from today, you’ll understand. Just…don’t kill the bastard of a muggle. If I wasn’t permitted to end his life, neither are you. Harry would not forgive either of us.” Snape watched as the dog ambled away, then woke Harry up.

Harry sat up slowly and groaned. “Wha…” he said, looking over he saw the three boys. He looked up at Snape with wide eyes and to the older man’s surprise, grabbed him tighter than he could imagine possible for the scrawny kid in front of him.

“Th-they have one of th-the p-p-p-p-pictures…and…and wanted…” he said desperately clinging to him, and Snape snarled and looked up to see people gathering at the end of the alley staring at the three stupefied teens and Snape holding Harry against him. Before long, as expected, a set of red robes were seen pushing through the throng into the alleyway.

Snape looked up to see an Auror, Nymphadora Tonks, he thought her name was. She looked down at the three and to Snape who was holding a sobbing Harry at this point.

“They have an incriminating photo, Auror Tonks,” Snape said softly. “And they were attempting to kidnap Harry to recreate the scene depicted apparently. The Quidditch shop-keeper contacted you?”

She nodded. “He did. Harry, can you tell me what happened?”

Harry shook his head, not removing it from Snape’s chest for a second. Snape sighed. “Harry, can I see? So I can show her?”

He nodded, breathing heavily but quiet now. After a few minutes, the auror left, all three boys floating after her. Harry by this time had calmed somewhat and finally let go of his robes and sat back on the alley ground again.

“Harry, I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have left you alone. I thought you would be safe in the store, but they had stunned the shop keeper. I will not make that mistake again, I promise?” he said, staring down at him.

Harry swallowed and nodded. “Can…can we go for candy…I need something chocolate,” he said softly.

“Of course, come on, now, I’ve done my shopping, and the clothes will be sent to the castle. We’ll go to the candy store, then lunch, if you think you can?” he asked, helping him stand.

Harry wasn’t sure but nodded. Once in the store, he picked out a couple sweets, and to his surprise, Snape paid for him. He thanked him and they headed to a small café for lunch. Harry wasn’t hungry, but he knew he had to eat. He was, however, quite displeased when Snape handed him a nutrient potion.

“I can’t even go out to lunch without this…” he groaned, taking it and drinking it. His face betrayed his shock as he looked at Snape with a questioning look.

“Madam Pomfrey shared your desire to have it taste better, so I worked with the formula a bit. I take it that the change was a pleasant one?” Snape said as their food arrived.

Harry nodded. “Yeah, I mean, it still isn’t great, but it tastes less like a bad Bertie Bott’s bean now…”

Snape smirked. “I take that as a good thing.”

Harry nodded. “It is, trust me. I’ve gotten some really bad ones lately…I seem to be having the worst run of luck…”

After a moment Snape looked at him. “Your food will not consume itself, Harry, and Poppy will have my head if you do not eat.”

Harry nodded, still slightly nauseous after the earlier encounter, but he knew he wouldn’t be able to lie to the medi-witch when he returned. So he slowly at the sandwich he’d ordered and sighed when he was done with it. He drank a lot of water and felt slightly sleepy afterward.

Snape nodded. “Good, Harry. Now let’s deal with those surly goblins, shall we?”

Harry nodded, and they went to Gringott’s. It wasn’t a terribly long affair, but it took a couple hours to straighten out things. Snape, unlike Harry, knew what he was doing when it came to financial matters. Before long they headed out and returned to Hogwarts. Harry wasn’t sure what to do, though, when they headed toward the dungeons after flooing back from Diagon Alley.

Snape turned. “I’ve already had your things moved, Harry,” he said, noting the trepidation.

Harry nodded and followed, this time Snape caught the hands behind the back and the twisting motion. He sighed and opened the door, allowing him to enter for the first time. Harry was amazed. It was actually nice inside. He’d expected it to be dark and dank like the potions classroom. This was nice, though, much nicer than he’d expected.

“You thought I’d have bats on the ceiling?” Snape asked, brushing past him as he stood gaping in the doorway.

Harry stood for a minute. “No, I just…expected it to be more like your classroom, is all…”

Snape rolled his eyes and opened the door to the extra rooms. He’d had a separate bathroom added for Harry as well. “Here is your room, you may do as you please, and there’s an attached bathroom. As long as you stay here, I do expect it to be neat, understood?”

Harry nodded, walking into the room and looking around. It was easily the size of the room the four boys shared in the tower. “It’s amazing, sir,” he said softly before sitting on the bed, then he looked up at Snape, eyes guarded again.

“Harry, this is your room, and I promise, unless I have a very good reason, I will not enter unless you give me permission,” Snape said, standing against the doorframe, but outside the room.

Harry worried his lip slightly between his teeth. “But what is a ‘good reason’, sir?”

Snape nearly gave an exasperated sigh, but restrained himself. “If I think you are in danger, or if I have to wake you for any reason, I will enter. Emergencies only.”

Harry nodded slowly. “Okay sir,” He looked to see there was a desk. “I’ve got some homework to do. Can…can we eat dinner here instead of the hall?”

Snape nodded. “I will have dinner brought here. Tell me if there is something you need,” he said and turned to leave Harry to his homework.

Harry thought about shutting the door then opted to leave it open. He set to his charms work, and before long there was a soft knock on the doorframe. He looked up, shocked to see Snape wasn’t wearing the large, billowy robes he wore outside. Instead he was wearing a simple black robe that was more form fitting, showing how slender the potion master was beneath those huge robes.

“Dinner, Harry,” he said.

Harry nodded and went to the table which was set with two places. He glanced at Snape and faltered.

“Harry…sit.” He said finally.

Harry nodded, and sat down in the seat and ate quietly as Snape read a book silently as he ate. Somehow, Harry wasn’t surprised that Snape enjoyed silent reading while eating dinner. It suited him well. When he was almost done he placed another potion quietly on the table for Harry and flipped the page.

“Um sir?” Harry asked. Snape looked up at him.

“Yes?” he said.

“Um, do you always read while you eat here?” he asked, not sure if it was okay to even talk at the table. “I mean, if it’s okay to ask.”

Snape glanced at the book as though realizing that he was indeed reading while he had someone else at the table. “Ah, Harry, I must apologize, I am unused to having anyone with me in here. Generally I do read in here when I dine alone. But if you wish, we can attempts some conversation over our food when we are eating here.”

Harry nodded. “I’m sorry, though.”

Snape sat the book down, drinking of the tea he was drinking. Merlin this was difficult. “Why are you sorry, Harry?”

“For today, those guys, I shouldn’t have got in trouble like that,” he said softly, staring at his hands.

Snape sighed. “Harry, you did nothing to be sorry for, they chose to attack you of their own accord.”

Harry nodded, but Snape could tell that something weighed on the boy. “But…what if they have…those pictures…here?”

He’d expected this but he had hoped that more time would have passed. “Then we will confiscate them.”

“But…then people will see them. And…that one today was…wasn’t bad. Not as bad as the others,” he said quietly. “I’m not sure what they are…I never saw them…I remember when uncle did his ‘photo shoots’ like with the ropes, but…he said there were others I didn’t know about.”

“We will deal with them, when and if, they surface, Harry,” Snape assured. “For now, you should finish dinner, then your homework. Starting tomorrow, I’ll catch you up in the practicals for potions that you’ve missed. Perhaps we can improve your potion making skills.”

Harry nodded and did just as he suggested. Snape watched him go and wondered how he could have ever gained the ire of those fat, stupid muggles. He was spirited, certainly, but even then, he didn’t hurt anyone or disobey to be rude. Even his disrespectful times had roots in something else. The boy had not an ounce of arrogance or self-entitlement. In fact, he was relatively sure that the boy had no idea what his vaults even contained.

Just then, there was a frantic knock at his door. He stood and went over to see a panting Draco standing there with wide eyes.

“Yes, Draco?” he asked.

“Is Harry here?” he asked, eyes wild.

Harry stepped out of his room, holding his charms book in his hand. A smudge of ink stained his face where he seemed to have wiped it off his hand.

“Merlin,” Draco said, ignoring the owner of the rooms. “I went to see you and you were gone!”

Harry looked up at Snape and back to Draco. “Um, we went to get some things done on Diagon Alley, I thought Madam Pomfrey…”

Harry was shocked though to find himself in a hug from the Malfoy heir. Snape arched a brow and the reprimand for Draco’s barging into his room died on his tongue. He pushed Harry back at arm’s length and frowned.

“Tell a bloke next time!” he said crossly.

“Um, okay, maybe you can go next time. I had some trouble while I was out,” Harry said nervously. Draco looked at Snape who still stood beside the door, though he’d closed it.

“Trouble?” he asked.

Snape nodded. “There were some older boys who had acquired a photo and decided to take Harry off with them. I’d left him at the Quidditch store, but they stunned both him and the store owner. I stunned them, and handed them over to an auror,” he said, watching as Harry’s face twisted in pain at the taunts they’d used on him.

“Are you okay?” Draco said turning to Harry, looking him over.

Harry nodded. “Yeah, Sev found me before they got too far away.”

“And why did you leave him alone?” Draco said, his heated gaze landing on his godfather.

Snape knew this was coming. “I made the incorrect assumption that a public store would be safe.”

“I’ll be going next time,” he stated, then looked at Harry. “You want some help with your work?”

Harry looked up at Snape. “If it’s okay?”

Snape nodded. “Yes, as long as you are out before curfew, Draco. And leave the door open.”

Harry frowned, wondering at the last comment, but he shook his head. He didn’t like closed doors anyway. They set up and completed all of his work long before curfew. They got some hot chocolate from Snape and sat on the sofa talking about what had been going on.

“Blaise was talking with me this morning before Sev took me out, so I’m not sure why he wouldn’t have told you I left with him…” Harry said thoughtfully.

Draco shook his head. “I haven’t seen him today; he was off with Theo doing who knows what.”

“Blaise seems like an okay guy,” Harry said with a nod. “They all are, really,” he continued, missing the flash of anger that crossed Draco’s face.

\-------Consequences--------

Harry was ready. At least he thought he was. He woke up early, as usual. He took a shower and changed into his clothes, got his books ready and then sat down to wait for Snape to come out. About half an hour later, the potions master came out and saw Harry out already.

“So, are you ready for breakfast today?” he asked.

“I think so. I didn’t freak out in Diagon Alley, so I should be okay,” Harry said, standing and following Snape out the door.

The walk to the great hall was quiet, a few Slytherin watched with interest, but no one said anything. And as soon as Harry walked into the hall, there was a distinct lack of discussion. Harry quickly ran over to his table and slid in between Ron and Hermione, trying to ignore the glances from the other three tables.

“How are you feeling?” Hermione asked with a smile.

Harry shrugged. “On display,” he muttered.

“Give it a few days, once everyone’s used to you being back, they’ll find something else to talk about,” Ron said nodding to him.

A few minutes later, Snape came by and handed him a potion bottle. Harry groaned, taking it, once again, all attention on him as Snape swept out of the great hall. He uncorked it and drank it, thanking Snape again for flavoring it.

“What’s that?” Neville asked from across the table.

“Nutrient potion…” he said, sticking out his tongue. “I have to keep taking them until Madam Pomfrey’s happy with my weight.”

After breakfast, he headed off to his classes and found most of the day was uneventful. There were whispered conversations that stopped when he came in, and muttered things behind his back, but there seemed to be nothing he couldn’t handle. However, he had separated from the others to go to the loo before potions. As he came out, he found himself facing a couple sixth year Ravenclaws who were staring at him.

“Um, excuse me?” he said, thinking they were just talking and forgot they were standing in front of the boys’ bathroom.

“Hello there, _Harry_ ,” one of them said, smiling.

“Um, hi, I’ve got to get to potions before I’m late,” Harry said, moving to go around them.

“Why not stay and chat? I mean, Snape’s your guardian now, so he’ll let you slide,” the second said, his gray eyes gleaming.

Harry shook his head. “He doesn’t give me any favors, trust me,” he said, moving to pass them again. Once more he was blocked.

“See it is just odd that the Slytherin head of house takes on a Gryffindor, you know?” the first one said, his hazel eyes dark.

Harry swallowed hard. “Yeah, well, he…he…”

“Just so strange, you know? Unless what they say is true,” the second said, looking at him.

Harry swallowed and looked for anyone who could help.

“Why, what do they say?” the one with the gray eyes asked the hazel eyed one.

The one with the gray eyes had hair of sandy blonde and leaned forward. “See, they say, the reason he took you in is because you are awesome at sucking his cock.”

Harry’s eyes went wide, and he swallowed convulsively. “I’ve never…I don’t…” he stammered, eyes wide.

“They say, you’re one helluva little whore,” the one with hazel eyes and thick brown hair said, shoving him backward into the doorway. “And I think you should show us exactly how good of one you are, little Harry.”

“N-no…just leave me alone!” he said, trying to push past them, only getting caught and slammed backward into the doorway again. His head bounced back off the hinges, and he felt a trickle of blood down his back.

The brunette leaned back and pulled out something from his robe and then held it up for Harry to see. Harry blanched, and his knees went out from under him. “Look how pretty he uses his mouth on that fat muggle,” he said softly. “I think I deserve at least that kind of treatment. I mean, wow, he’s already on his knees for us,” he said, grinning.

Harry wasn’t sure whether to scream or cry. He fumbled into his pocket to grab his wand, though, some instinct telling him to stop freezing up. He held it up in a shaky hand, trying desperately not to give away how scared he was at the moment. He tried to ignore the awful picture the boy was holding in front of him, and he held back tears that were threatening to fall.

“Get away!” he tried to sound forceful but it came out broken and almost like sob.

“Aw, poor little lion, he’s trying to defend himself from us,” the blonde said with a grin.

The other had his wand out and shouting the disarming charm before Harry could even begin to counter the spell. He stared, wide eyed and empty handed as he caught his wand and grinned at him.

“Let’s take this in the loo,” he said moving forward and grabbing Harry by the arm and dragging him back through the doorway into the bathroom. He scrabbled and grabbed at the frame, feeling one his nails break as he did. His head was woozy, and he knew the cut on his head was still bleeding, though slower. He gasped, and then he saw Nick.

“Nick!” he called, getting the ghost’s attention as he was yanked forcefully into the bathroom.

The ghost was gone to the nearest classroom within a moment, which was the potions room. He wafted into the room, as Snape was about to ask where Harry had gone to.

“Harry, I think needs your help, Professor,” the ghost said.

“Take me,” Snape said, following the ghost to the nearby boy’s bathroom. He pushed on the door, finding it locked with a charm.

He made quick work of it and the door banged open, surprising the two seventh years and Harry. Harry was backed against the wall, and Snape could tell one of the boys had his wand. Snape lowered his wand at the two boys who had gone pale. Harry managed to get the wherewithal to stumble away and past them towards Snape, falling back to his knees when he got there, burying his face in his robes and gasping.

“I do believe you two need to go to your head of house. Now,” Snape instructed, reaching out.

One of them placed Harry’s wand in his hand and watched them leave before he kneeled. He felt the back of his head, and realized it was wet with blood. He felt around, and found a cut on his head that was steadily oozing blood. He got heavy against him.

“Come on, back to the infirmary with you,” he said with a sigh, realizing that Harry had passed out.


	7. The Snake and the Mutt Agree

Harry woke up with a groan to see he was in his room. On the bed beside him sat Snape, reading a book. The potion master seemed absorbed in what he was reading. His head was pounding and he felt his magic swirling inside his head. He’d had this happen before. He reigned it in and the magic snapped back into his magical core just as easy as it had leaked out of it.

“Sir?” he asked quietly, getting his attention.

“Harry, how are you feeling?” he asked, putting the book in his lap.

He reached up and put a hand to his head. “I have a headache. And I’m done.”

Snape frowned. “Done?”

Harry nodded, staring at the ceiling. “Done. I’m not leaving this room for anything again.”

“Harry, that’s not practical,” Snape reasoned.

“Nope, every time I leave, this happens. So not going again. So far, this place is the only place I’m safe.”

“Your friends?” he asked.

Harry sighed. “If they want me, they can visit when you let them.”

“Classes?”

“I can do all my work right here, and you can help me with practicals. Or if you don’t want to do that, I’ll just stop going to school and stay right here,” he said softly.

“Okay, I will do whatever you want, but Constance is here to see you. Would you like me to leave when I bring her in and close the door?” he asked, standing.

“Don’t close the door!” he said, sitting up in a near panic. Closed doors meant that _things_ could happen. He swallowed hard. He had no idea where the thought came from, but he shut it away behind the doors of his mind.

Snape frowned. This was a new one. “Okay, Harry, I’ll leave it open and be in the next room. I’ve got an owl to send, so I’ll be gone for a few moments but you’ll be fine with Constance.”

He showed the healer in and took his leave. He had an owl to send to a large, black mutt after he talked to the headmaster.

“Harry,” she said, coming in and sitting at the foot of his bed. “I hear you’ve had a rough couple days?”

Harry rubbed his forehead. “You could say that.”

“Want to tell me what happened?” she said softly. She had a calming draught and a dreamless sleep in her pocket.

Harry nodded. “Well, I’m sure you know.”

“I want you to tell me, though,” she encouraged.

He sighed. “I got attacked by these guys in Diagon Alley when I was shopping with Sev. Th-they had a picture my uncle had taken, and th-they wanted to take me off and…I’m not sure what they wanted. They said to have some fun. I just…I just was so happy when I came around and Sev was with me. I knew I was okay then but still.”

“Scary I bet. But you felt safe with Professor Snape.”

He nodded. “Is that weird? I should be scared of him.”

She sighed. This child was really going to be the end of her. “Why would that be weird?”

“He’s Severus Snape, you know. He’s…well, he’s supposed to be a right git. And-and he’s not, he’s taken care of me, and bought me clothes, and he’s still a git, and arrogant, and rude, but he’s not mean to me…and I don’t think he’s going to hit me anymore…I mean, he would have done it already, wouldn’t he?” he said, picking at the covers.

“What in the world have you done that he would have hit you for?” she asked quietly.

“Well, I had a nightmare last night, but he didn’t come in here so I guess I didn’t wake him up,” he said softly. “Uncle would have hit me for waking him up. But I don’t think Sev would hit me for that.”

He heard the outer door open and close and knew that Snape had returned. He watched as he sat in the sitting area in the front to read once more. Harry didn’t catch his own soft smile as he watched him.

“That’s good that you don’t think he would. Do you think that Professor Snape cares about you?” she asked.

Harry swallowed hard and frowned. “I…think he might. He…he doesn’t seem to want anything from me like Uncle did. Uncle wanted me to pay my way,” he said the last quietly.

“Pay your way?” she asked, brows furrowing.

“T-today, the boys in the bathroom, they had a b-bad picture, not like the first ones in Diagon Alley,” he said, looking up at the ceiling.

“There are bad ones and not bad ones?” she asked.

Harry nodded. “The ones where I’m not doing _things_ aren’t the bad ones,” he said softly. “The boys in the bathroom…they had one where I was doing some _thing_ to Uncle, something I hated so much that it made me want to throw up every time.”

“Was that what you meant by paying your way?” she asked.

Harry nodded, looking away. “I was scared when Sev t-took me for clothes. B-but he didn’t ask for that, so maybe he won’t?”

Constance swallowed hard, glad that the professor wasn’t in the room. “Harry, he would never expect you to do something like that.”

Harry nodded. “I mean, I _know_ that. I do,” he shook his head. “In my head, I know that he isn’t Uncle. But…but…it still…you know…I…I don’t know how to act sometimes. And if I act wrong he might punish me and I’m scared of that. Part of me wants to p-push him, to act wrong, to see wh-what it takes.”

She moved to sit in the chair beside him. “What do you mean, what it takes?”

“T-to make him hit me,” he said softly.

“Why would you want him to do that?”

“So I’d know, then. So I’d know what to do to avoid being hit, or having to do things, you know.”

“Harry, nothing you do will push him to do something like what your uncle did to you, any of it. He’s not going to withhold food, he’s not going to beat you, and he’s certainly not going to force you into sex acts,” she said watching him carefully. At each word he flinched, and a tremble crossed him.

“I know. I mean, I don’t know, and it scares me, I don’t know if…if he could go that far if I did the wrong thing, enough to push him, t-to make him angry enough,” he whispered.

“I heard you don’t want to leave this room,” she said after a long pause.

He nodded. “They all talk about me, I can hear it, and when I walk in the room they stop talking, so I know, and then those boys and the pictures. He-he told me…he told me that he’d make me regret telling anyone.”

She sighed deeply. “You cannot avoid everyone, Harry.”

“But I just need some time,” he said softly. “Do…do you think I could stay here until his trial is over? Two weeks, th-they said.”

“I think that would be fine, I’ll talk with Professor Snape. I’ll let you rest for now, Harry, but if you need me, I’ll floo back in a few minutes, no matter what time it is,” she said and stood.

She almost closed the door behind her but caught Snape’s head shake. She headed back into the front and she sighed at him.

“He wants to stay in his room until the trial is over. That might be for the best. And Professor, you should be aware he might push your boundaries,” she said, seeing he was already laying back in the chair as she took a seat across from him.

“What do you mean?” he asked frowning.

“He’s afraid that he doesn’t know your limits and what it would take for you to react the way his uncle did,” she said with a sigh. “He doesn’t know what it would take to make you hit him, and it bothers him.”

Snape frowned. “I’d never hit him, I’d never hit a child, period,” he said softly.

“That may be, but in his world view, that’s unknown. Think about it, he knew if he did certain things what would happen. Burning food would mean a beating. Breaking something would also. He knew the boundaries, and he could prepare himself. So please, if he does something, keep that in mind, and don’t be too hard on him for whatever it is. He may do it just to find out where your breaking point is,” she said with a soft smile.

                He nodded. “I…have a sharp tongue, so I will try to keep it in check. And I do have a short temper, so I will try not to do any damage, but I have my own demons to deal with.”

                She put a hand on his shoulder. “I understand that; just keep these things in mind. He may yell at you, scream, and curse, anything to get a rise out of you, just to see where that line is because he has no idea. He trusts you, though, more than anyone but he’s worried about that line. He still worries that he’ll have to ‘pay’ for your kindness.”

                “Pay?” he said with a frown.

                “It seems he paid for kindness with favors,” she said in almost a whisper.

                Snape’s eyes widened. “So when I took him for clothes and things, he thought I’d make him…?”

                She nodded. “Don’t blame him, he can’t help it. Just continue proving him wrong on how he expects someone taking care of him to act.”

                She left and Snape swallowed hard. Even after everything, he still was scared of him? He was disturbed by that. There was a pop and a house elf presented him with a parchment. He frowned and unrolled it.

                _Agreed. Hogsmeade at the Shack tomorrow night. Need something to hide my presence. Hope you can come up with a solution._

                He nodded. He was still unsure about what he was doing, but the headmaster had agreed. He sighed and leaned back. Having Potter’s spawn in his rooms was bad enough, but the mutt as well?

\--------Consequences----------

                “One step forward, and three steps back, huh?” Ron said solemnly at breakfast.

                “So it would seem,” Hermione answered with a sigh. “He can’t catch a break, it seems.”

                Tuesday had dawned with the realization that the trio was once more limited to a duo. Neville sat down opposite them, looking around.

                “Seems that setback was an understatement when he found himself face to face with the photos,” Ron explained. “I guess a couple sixth year Ravenclaws cornered him with one and he flipped afterward and won’t come out of his room anymore.”

                Neville sighed. “I don’t blame him. They were pretty horrible.”

                Snape came in looking tired, followed by a retinue of snakes who looked frustrated, with Draco at the head, looking almost irate.

                “What’s the deal with Malfoy, anyway?” Neville asked, watching with interest. “I mean, him and his bunch haven’t been torturing us lately, and he’s almost…tolerable.”

                Hermione had her ideas, but she didn’t voice them. Ron, however, had no clue. “Dunno, maybe he feels bad? Though I can’t imagine that prat feeling bad for anything.”

                After breakfast, they set about their day, and by the end were waiting outside the door to Snape’s quarters wondering if they should knock or not.

                “If you are going to just stand there, move so I can knock, at least,” came the familiar drawl of Draco behind them.

                “Ah, Malfoy,” Hermione said, stepping back as the blond knocked on the door.

                Snape answered it with no comment and moved away to return to sit by his fire and resume reading. Draco went in, and Ron and Hermione shrugged and followed. Neville waited a moment then scurried after them. They found Harry seated in his bedroom working on his charms work. He smiled when they came in and flopped on the bed. Draco had dropped into a larger chair beside the desk.

                “Hey, how are you guys doing?” Harry said, glancing around.

                “Missed ya today, mate,” Ron said with a smile.

                Harry nodded. “Yeah, I think until this trial is over, I’d rather stay off people’s radar, you know?”

                Hermione nodded. “When is it?”

                “Not this next Monday, but the Monday after that. So two weeks from yesterday. Then I don’t know how long it will take,” Harry said. “But anyway, tell me what else has been happening.”

                They chatted until it was almost curfew, and the Gryffindors headed out first. Draco remained, and watched as Harry wrapped up his scrolls and turned to him.

                “I’m surprised you stayed with that bunch around,” he said with a smile.

                Draco realized how much he appreciated his smile at a time like this. “Yeah, I know. But I wanted to make sure you were okay, you know, after yesterday. I swear, I thought Uncle Sev was going to blow a vein when he came back to the dorm last night. Not sure if he was angrier at the boys or at himself though.”

                Harry glanced down. “Yeah, I felt bad…”

                “What the hell, Harry? Why would you feel bad for what those bastards did?” Draco asked, his own anger bristling.

                “I just…I mean, if it weren’t for me, they wouldn’t have done it, and then they wouldn’t be suspended, and they’re going to be furious with me when they come back, and…” he stared at his hands as though nothing more interesting had ever existed.

                Draco snorted. “Bullocks, Harry. They knew better. Wrong is wrong, and that is wrong.”

                Harry looked up and smirked at the blond. “Funny to hear that from a snake,” he said softly.

                “Even we have standards, Harry,” he said with a roll of his eyes.

                “I just…I can’t get past how to act right now,” Harry said with a heavy sigh, leaning back against the tall backed chair.

                Draco frowned. “What does that mean?”

                “I…I mean…getting past the fact that Severus isn’t going to ask those things of me that Uncle did…” he said, his face flushing at the thought. “That he doesn’t expect me to _pay_ for things.”

                “Good Merlin, of course not, Harry,” Draco said, slightly sick at the thought of what he was saying.

                Harry shuddered at a memory surfacing, pushing it away. “Yeah, but I never was given anything without a price. I wanted to be held and hugged, and I wanted to feel someone touch me in good ways, and just when I thought that was going to happen, things got twisted into something truly horrible and I…I feel like if I let my guard down…the same thing will happen again.”

                Draco put a gentle hand on his shoulder. “Harry, that’s over. You don’t have to worry.”

                “But what if I mess up too bad?” he said softly. “And…and he realizes he made a mistake…and wants to send me somewhere else…”

                “Harry, he won’t,” Draco assured.

                “I just…I’ve never had someone care unconditionally. There were always conditions to get anything I wanted. To get food, I had to do the chores and cook the food, if I was lucky. And then…when I thought I would get something like…affection…he…” Harry paused and closed his eyes. “I don’t know how to handle good things.”

                Draco sighed. “Yeah, well, well just don’t you worry, Harry, we’ll get you sorted out.”

                “Why are you doing this? I mean, is there a reason?” he asked nervously, refusing to look at the blonde. “I’m sorry I shouldn’t say that. I just…I look for reasons people do things that are nice…and well, your company…is nice…”

                Draco was a little put off by the question until he understood the rest of the sentence. “You think my company is nice?” he asked, looking out the door to see Snape just outside. He looked to have been about to say something but stopped at hearing Harry’s statement.

                Harry nodded, looking up with a sheepish smile. “Yeah, it is. I like when you’re around. You keep me…grounded.”

                Draco’s face lit up with a smile. A real one. “Well, that’s a first, a snake keeping a lion on the ground?”

                The raven stifled a giggle. “Yeah, I know, but you’re…safe. I don’t know why. I mean, Blaise and Theo, Neville, Seamus, Dean, all of them, they’re good guys, but I can’t imagine letting them touch me…” He reached out and took one of Draco’s pale hands in his own. “I…I can’t even think if doing something like that to one of them. It just doesn’t feel…right.”

                Draco’s eyes flitted between his clasped hand and to Snape’s face who was watching with open astonishment. “Well, then I’m glad to be the safe one for you,” he said carefully. Choosing his words right now was important. He couldn’t seem too eager or act like what Harry was telling him was insignificant. Indeed, he understood how extremely monumental those words were.

                “M-maybe it’s stupid, because you were there at first and I just was shocked that you would be there for me, of all people. I mean, I know you’ve hated me for being the stupid boy-who-lived and all that crap. All that crap I could do without and m-maybe that’s why you seem more…sincere. You could care less about the stupid scar on my forehead, or the dumb thing with the stupid dark lord, and well…” Harry trailed off not sure what to say.

                Draco squeezed Harry’s slender hand. “Well, let’s worry about that later, okay.   I most certainly could care less about your fame and fortune; I have enough of my own, thanks.”

                Harry smiled again, this time, it lit his eyes just a hair. “Yeah, I mean, I’ve had girls and guys ask me to go out and they don’t care about me. They just care about Harry bloody Potter. Not me, just Harry, you know. And now…how am I ever going to find someone that doesn’t see me and think about this stupid trial and those pictures that everyone is going to see because my Uncle was such a prick…”

                “Not just your uncle, Harry,” Snape’s voice said from the door. Harry turned to him.

                “What do you mean?” he asked softly.

                Snape nodded. “Lucius was by and we talked about the situation. Someone in the Ministry had to get those photos Harry. He had contacts in the wizarding world, someone who was paying him off, and someone he had given those photos to long before he was picked up by the muggle police.”

                Harry paled slightly. “So…someone is wanting to do what exactly?”

                “Put you right where you are right now, Harry,” he said with a tired sigh. “Scared, in the spotlight, and hiding. They don’t, however, know how determined of a bunch we are. Now, I’ve got a meeting to attend to shortly. Now, Draco? Would you like to stay here, it is far too late for you to head back.   Just transfigure the couch, I’ll be back soon.”

                Draco nodded and set about setting himself up. Before he left, Snape glared at his godson. “I’m counting on you, Draco. I’ll be back soon.” It didn’t take a legilimens to figure out what his godfather meant. Harry had already slipped into bed and into a restless sleep as Draco fell into a similar one on the couch-bed.

\-----Collaring the Mutt----

                Snape headed down the corridor and made his way into the Shrieking Shack. He wondered if anyone would ever realize the place wasn’t haunted. He leaned against the wall until he heard a growl. He turned to look at Sirius Black’s animagus form. He transformed into the familiar tall, dark haired man. His eyes were still wild, perhaps the after effects of his stay in Azkaban.

                “Snape,” he greeted, crossing arms over his chest.

                “Black, do you ever bathe?   You smell like a wet dog,” Snape responded with a crinkled nose.

                Sirius rolled his eyes. “Well, I have been a dog for a while, now what is it that you have planned?”

                Snape removed something from his robes and handed it to the dark haired man. “What’s…this is a collar, Snape. What the hell?”

                Snape rolled his eyes. “Look, do you want to go undetected inside Hogwarts or not? It’s protective, keeps anyone from exploring deeper than cursory looks that you’re a great big black dog. It changes with your form too, so as long as you have it on, as far as detection goes, you’re the big black dog. Completely masks your presence. Location spells won’t work either.”

                Sirius grumbled but snapped the magical collar onto his neck, relieved to find it was unnoticeable once he put it on.

“How is Harry dealing with all this?” he asked, looking at Snape with a curious brow.

Snape sighed and detailed what had happened with the other students and that the pictures had begun to circulate at the school.

“I read the Prophet and I was disgusted. I intend to pay that fat muggle a visit before he disappears into the prison system. And by visit I mean with my teeth,” Sirius said. “How bad?”

Snape sighed. “Poppy can show you the medical files, technically I suppose we share rights because the only reason you don’t have him is because of your escaped convict status. I trust Poppy with this; she and Dumbledore are the only ones who know who you are. I want to keep it that way. But he was in sad shape. He had a bad infection where he’d been torn viciously during the latest…assault.”

Sirius let out a low growl that definitely reminded one exactly what the man was when he was an animal. His eyes flashed. “I wish I could kill the bastard.”

“Harry wouldn’t forgive you,” Snape reminded him.

“I know. Believe me, or he’d have died last year. And that was close and before I even knew what was going on,” he said with another low growl.

“Well, he’ll get his just desserts,” Snape said with a deeper sigh.

“He deserves Azkaban,” he said fixing Snape with a knowing stare.

Snape nodded. “I know, but as a muggle, they won’t send him there.”

“Doesn’t mean they shouldn’t,” he said, running a hand through his wavy black hair. “I can’t believe Lily’s sister…how could she let this happen?”

“She didn’t know about the rapes, from what we could tell. She happily let the police take him. Perhaps out of fear her son might be next if she didn’t. But she didn’t deny he was abused and starved. I can’t imagine what his first few years there were like,” Snape said with a deep sigh.

Sirius looked up, somewhat shocked by the real emotion he was seeing in the man. He had to admit, he’d changed a lot since their days at school. And now, what he was doing for Harry had given him more than a small amount of respect for him. “Anything else I should know?”

Snape thought and nodded. “I believe he may be forging a relationship with my godson, Draco. I wasn’t sure about Harry’s sexuality, but it seems he prefers wizards to witches. Just from what I’ve observed in the way he interacts, but I may be wrong.”

Sirius nodded. Ugh, a Malfoy? Well, he guessed it didn’t matter as long as he didn’t hurt Harry. But he thought all they did was fight. He shook his head. “Let’s go, I want to see Harry.”

                “He’s already asleep,” Snape said with a frown.

                “Then I’ll sleep on the foot of his bed and protect him during the night,” he responded, a thick black brow arching.

                Snape nearly growled to rival the dog before him. “Fine, but stay in the bloody dog form for now.”

                “I will as much as I can, but you know I have to change back so it doesn’t stay permanent,” he countered with a smirk, shifting smoothly into the large black dog. Together they made their way past the whomping willow and into Snape’s quarters where Sirius made his way into Harry’s room and curled on the foot under the wary gaze of the potion master. He snorted and checked that Draco was asleep and headed to his own rest.

                The next morning, Harry woke to find his feet incredibly warm. He groaned and tried to move them but found them pinned. He panicked briefly but sat up, grabbing his glasses. His mouth hung open to see a large black dog on his bed.

                “Sirius?” he breathed. The dog lifted his head and then shifted smoothly into the tall black haired man.

                “Harry!” he said quietly. He sat still.

                Harry didn’t know what to say, do or thing, his mind just shut down. Sirius was on the foot of his bed. For a second he panicked but he pushed it away. This was Sirius, the godfather who would never hurt him. He waited another moment then crawled over and hugged him tightly. “Sirius, how? Won’t you get caught?”

                Snape stood at the door sipping tea. “I collared the mutt,” he explained. Sirius gave him a hard glare then pointed to the collar.

                “Something Severus came up with,” Sirius explained. Makes me hard to detect, and it changes form with me, but obviously I have to stay in my animagus form most the time while I’m here. Too easy to be detected otherwise.”

                “Speaking of which, Black, get back into it, Draco’s about to wake up.”

                It never failed to amaze Harry when he watched the transformation. He ran his hands through the black fur and wrinkled his nose. “You need a bath, come on, Padfoot,” he said, filling the bathtub in short order.

                By the time both emerged from the room, Harry was clean and dressed with an equally clean black dog beside him. Draco stared as he sat down at the table.

                “What?” he asked, looking at Snape.

                “A little extra insurance for Harry’s safety, his name is Padfoot, and he’s a magical dog, so he’ll protect Harry with his very life,” Snape explained, biting off toast and reading the Prophet.

                Sirius growled and rolled his eyes, flopping on the floor beside Harry’s feet as he sat down to eat. Harry sighed dejectedly as he looked at the front of the Prophet. An interview with an anonymous Hogwarts student detailing Harry’s wanton behaviors during the school year, which seemed to end with blaming it on his abuse. Snape looked at him, then sighed.

                “Harry, you know they make these things up. Just ignore it, before long they will have another scandal to deal with,” Snape assured.

                After breakfast he went to his room, ensuring the door was open. Sirius followed and laid himself in the doorway. He may not be able to talk to his godson like this, but at least he could protect him from any threat that came their way.

\--------The Trial----------

                The trial was an incredibly simple affair. The jury came in and opening statements were read. Evidence was presented in an orderly fashion. The jury was not shown the videos, since the plea was guilty after the defense saw the videotaped evidence, they were only told about their existence and given the file of photographs. A man who remained unnamed in the court documents testified in place of the victim, something the jury had never heard of happening. However, when the man was done explaining his position as guardian and the fragile state of his mental health, they agreed it was for the best. The defendant’s wife and son also testified, admitting to taking part in the physical and psychological abuse of the boy from the time they came into custody. The jury wondered at the fact no one noticed the abuse before.

                After a half an hour spent deliberating (most of which was discussing what horrible things could be done to the man before them), the verdict was returned with perhaps the stiffest sentence anyone had ever heard of for this type of crime. The fat defendant took it all stoically. He had nothing to say. He’d been caught. But then he stood suddenly and started yelling that it was terrible for them to punish him for something that happened to a freak that was less than human and a great many other things that left those in the courtroom quite stunned.

                However, the mauling by a huge black dog (some claimed it to be a black bear!) didn’t seem to shock anyone. Even the man’s wife seemed to watch as the beast tore at her husband with disinterest. A couple rubber bullets were fired at the creature, sending him running away, and no one bothered to follow or try to catch him. They wondered at the fact they didn’t care. The fat man was hauled off to spend six weeks in the infirmary. The black dog was quite self-satisfied when he appeared beside the tall potion master and trotted off to clean the blood from his paws and mouth. The muggle’s taste had to go.

                All the while, Barty Crouch watched the events unfold with a smile. He didn’t know how Black had gotten wind of the trail, but it was clear he was incensed to come out in public. Unfortunately, he was thwarted in his attempts to trace the beast even when he knew where to look for him. He smiled to himself. Yes, the plan was working, if a little differently than intended. By the time the boy who lived faced Voldemort, he would be a shell of himself, and he would die. And nothing would stop that. He would keep the pressure up now. He sighed, running hands through hair. His son had escaped, but that didn’t matter. He knew he was out there.

                And indeed he was. He smirked to himself, downing the potion again that maintained his disguise. He really needed to make this last longer. His lord’s plans were moving forward splendidly. He would have to see if he could spend some time alone with the brat. He did miss his face, though. He had everything in place, and in just a few weeks, the Tri-Wizard would start. And he would make sure everything followed according to plan.

 

 


	8. The Goblet

                “Seriously, Harry, you _have_ to leave your room for this!” Ron pleaded, standing before the threshold, eyeing Padfoot who looked at him with amusement.

                “I’m not interested in seeing the people get here from the other schools,” he said frowning.

                “Harry, you’ve been cooped up in here for _two_ months. The _Prophet_ has even quit writing about it, and no one has seen anything in that time,” Hermione reasoned.

                Draco sat beside him with an amused look. “I agree with them, Harry, you need to go out. And what better than the Halloween party? You can dress up in costume, and everything, come on.”

                Harry looked to see Snape standing a little further away with an amused half smirk. “Harry, they’re right. Two months without being around anyone but those in this room is a long time. Try it out, go masked, and have a little fun. Padfoot will go with you and you know he’s the best guard mutt in the world.”

                A growl issued from the large black form in the doorway. Snape snorted and turned to get his things together before the evening festivities. The schools would arrive in the next hour, then the festivities would happen after the introductions. Then, after a week, they would present those that would participate in the Tri-Wizard tournament at another feast.

                The last two months had been difficult. The trial had led to two weeks straight of nightmares that left him shaking and nearly incapable of getting out of bed. It didn’t take long for Snape to figure it out, despite the silencing spells. Sirius was quick to comfort his godson, but some nights, it took both of them and a vial of dreamless sleep to get him back to sleep. No one mentioned going back to regular classes, and even the hint of going outside the castle set him off in a panic attack. Constance visited on a weekly basis, and it was helping with everything except the social phobia he had developed. He tolerated his friends; Draco’s friends were included there as well except for Theo Nott who seemed to have taken a dislike to Harry after a week or so of visiting. Draco said not to let it bother him, but Harry couldn’t help it. He didn’t know what he’d done to set himself at odds with Theo.

                Time heals wounds, but some take a lot longer than others. He was at the stage he didn’t mind being touched by Ron, Blaise, Snape, Sirius, and of course, Draco. The others, though, he still shied away from, but not as violently as before. He’d managed to put away the fear of Snape treating him in the ways of his uncle (especially after a particularly violent outburst by Harry one morning after a series of nightmares the night before). He learned quickly that Snape was considerate of the cause of his problems, and despite a few cutting remarks over the last month that Snape regretted the instant he said them, they had gotten along quite well.

                Surprisingly, his studies had vastly improved. Of course, the main reason for that was that Harry chose to absorb himself in study rather than process things on his own like he was supposed to after his therapist left. He was avoiding the things he didn’t want to think of, and Constance could tell. She tried, but Harry was more stubborn than anyone she’d had the pleasure to work with. Perhaps her problems were that unlike violent and rude patients, Harry was kind and obedient, but overly so. When she heard of the violent outburst that nearly fried all of Snape’s hair along with Sirus’s fur, she was ecstatic, telling them that he had to release the emotional turmoil at some point, as he’d been far too pliant and agreeable so far.

                Snape and Sirius had to agree, the boy wasn’t dealing with things, and Constance knew better than both of them that there was little to no healing happening at the moment for the boy. Sirius and Severus spoke at length about Harry, and agreed on many things, and even when they disagreed, it never degenerated into a fight like it had before Sirius had been to Azkaban. And that was perhaps where things started getting strange between the snake and the mutt. Sirius was contemplating that strangeness when Harry got up and agreed with his friends to go to the party if he was costumed and masked.

                To Harry, the thought of being disguised and unknown made him a different person. He could forget he was the boy-who-lived, he could forget that he was a victim, and he could forget the dirtiness and filthiness he still felt when anyone came near him. He imagined his friends that he allowed to touch him were covered by shields that ensured that his dirt wouldn’t transfer to them. He knew it was a strange thought, but he felt like his magic was going to protect those he wanted to protect. His eyes would often light with a smile for them, but only because it was expected. He was getting used to fake smiles these days. He hid the fact that he took scalding showers that left his skin bright red. He hid the fact he’d scrub himself nearly bleeding while he was there, healing any damage before he left the bathroom. He hid the fact he cut himself with a small silver knife with a retractable blade that he kept in his sock. He learned through reading Snape’s books how to quickly heal minor injuries, and that kept them from finding out what he was doing.

                So now he was doing what his friends expected him to do as he healed. However, he would have never agreed without the mask. He couldn’t face the world that knew him for what he was. The savior of the wizarding world who let a muggle have his way with him. How disgusted most the world must be with him, he thought. Why wouldn’t they be? How could he defeat the great dark lord if he couldn’t protect himself from the disgusting things he had been forced to do for his uncle’s amusement. No, he was no savior, and he was waiting for the day the Prophet outed him as nothing more than a useless fraud, because that was exactly what he was. Even as a wizard, he was a freak. The story of his life. He turned to his chattering friends, the fake smile plastered to his face convincingly.

                The three friends were so excited that they started talking at once. Sirius flattened his ears and rolled his eyes, putting paws over them. He did not miss his godson’s mental hiatus and he was deeply worried for the boy.

                Snape came in to see what the commotion was about. “What is going on?”

                Draco gave him a sideways grin. “He agreed to go; we’re trying to figure out what to dress him as.”

                Snape nodded. “Well, what are you all dressing as?”

                Hermione smiled. “I’m going as a bunny, Ron as a cat, and Draco?” she said looking at the blonde.

                He shrugged. “I figured Harry wouldn’t go, so I was staying here. What do you think I should go as, Harry?”

                Harry turned and looked at him and smiled. “An angel fits you, with your hair and eyes.”

                Draco blinked and shrugged. “Whatever, I can transfigure some wings. I’m not wearing a dress though, white robes.”

                Harry smiled, thinking to himself that he was looking forward to it more and more. Then he smiled. “I could go as…um…maybe a demon, with wings and a half mask over the top of my face, that way I don’t have to take it off to eat.”

                Harry thought it was appropriate. Demons were filthy creatures after all, full of sin and ill intent. What more fitting a character for him to play…he thought. And Draco was indeed an angel, so pure and light, now that he knew him. It also highlighted how far apart he was from Draco. No matter what he did, they would be separated as far apart as heaven and hell. No one would touch him, and he wouldn’t soil Draco like that. And he desperately wanted to push him away, but Harry thought if he did, he might really give up and give in to the little knife in his sock that wanted to delve deeply into his wrist and release all the pain at once.

                Draco nodded. “Okay, let’s do this; I’ll wear a mask too, just so you aren’t the only one.”

                After a few minutes of transfiguration, Ron was sporting orange striped cat ears and tail. He had a pair of black pants and a tight black shirt covered in tiger stripes. His face had been transfigured to resemble a tiger. Hermione, likewise, had transfigured herself with a bunny tail and ears, wearing a white skirt that had a hole for the tail (which was black), and a plain white shirt. She had a cute bunny nose and large rabbit eyes and large black floppy bunny ears.

                Harry couldn’t take his eyes off Draco, though. He’d been given a pair of wings that he could move a little with some effort that stood as tall as he did and he could open them a little, but they were mostly for show. His hair was longer, dropping below his chin and framing his pale face. A white mask covered the upper part of his face with gold etching, and his eyes shown even brighter for it. He wore a sleeveless robe and a golden ring sat above his head.

                “Draco, that’s amazing!” Hermione said, looking him over.

                “Now Harry!” Draco said, turning his wand on the shorter boy.

                After a few minutes, Harry’s clothes had been transfigured into a pair of red leather pants that he complained about (but the others swore they were perfect), and a black fitted shirt with a matching leather vest. A pair of demon wings sprouted from his back, which like Draco’s, he could flutter a little bit. His skin was a ruddy reddish brown, and his hair had been left alone. The mask was black, and made his green eyes stand out against the colors. A pair of small horns sprouted from his head. He felt them because they felt weird.

                “Well?” he asked.

                “No one will know you at all like that!” Hermione said with a grin, looking her friend over, and noticing the not so subtle way Draco’s gaze lingered on his ass as she turned him to face her.

                “Now Harry, if you get overwhelmed, come back here, okay? Padfoot will stay close, but we don’t want him tripping everyone,” Snape said, reaching down to Harry’s surprise and scratching the black dog’s head absent-mindedly. Harry didn’t think he even knew he did it. His heart fluttered to think that perhaps they had let the old rivalry die.

                They headed out to the great hall where they all watched in interest as the schools were introduced, and Ron had a heart attack the Viktor Krum was one of them. They had the feast and then the tables moved away and they had a welcoming Halloween ball. The students from the three schools mixed and mingled with each other. Harry couldn’t believe it. He was relaxed when no one knew him. He didn’t even mind people brushing against him, and random students talking to him. Music played and people paired off to dance with each other. He felt a hand grab his and was drug to the floor.

                Draco grinned at him as he moved him around the floor. Harry felt himself blush. It was strange to dance with another boy, but he liked it better than dancing with a girl. He was pants at leading during a dance, and more than happy to let Draco lead his actions. After a while, another song started and he felt someone behind him. He turned to find himself facing none other than Viktor Krum. He blinked.

                “You have dance with me?” he asked in his thick accent and Harry nodded, once again led away. Draco looked up when he realized he was gone and smiled. While he would have preferred to keep Harry to himself, Pansy had already swept him up in another dance. And to see Harry interacting with others was a good thing, he reminded himself.

                “So, you from this school?” Viktor asked, smiling at him.

                Harry nodded, unable to get over the fact he was dancing with Krum. He glanced over to see Ron standing with a gaping jaw. “I am.”

                “Can I have your name?” he asked, leaning closer and pulling Harry into him.

                “Um, I’m in disguise, you’ll have to figure it out yourself,” he said with a smirk, his eyes roving the older boy.

                Viktor grinned wider. “Oh, much fun.”

                He stayed with him another dance and then went for a drink, only to be assaulted by Ron with questions. Viktor danced with several other boys and girls throughout the night, but he kept glancing at Harry. Harry danced with a couple girls, but ended up failing miserably at leading the dance, so he opted to stay with the boys. Blaise and Crabbe, surprisingly, danced with him, though he was a little put off when he ended up getting his ass squeezed by Blaise before he let him go. That was a little more forward than he’d like. But part of him didn’t mind; after all, only a few people knew who he was. It wasn’t like he could infect any of them with his impurities if they didn’t realize who he was.

                Finally he was sitting at a table with Hermione and Ron watching Draco take the floor with Viktor this time. He was a little amused because he didn’t think Draco had danced with many girls the entire time.

                Ron was gaping again. “I think he’s danced with more guys and girls tonight than I thought possible. I guess he plays for both teams, huh?”

                Harry nodded. “So it would seem, he seems quite enamored with anyone he finds attractive.”

                “You seem to be okay so far, Harry?” she asked with a smile.

                “Yeah, when people can’t see me it…it’s different.” He wasn’t going to tell them that the anonymity hid the dirt that he felt coating him beneath the surface of his skin.

                Soon enough, the Goblet of Fire was presented, the rules outlined, and Harry was extremely glad that this was something he wouldn’t have to participate in. For once, he would not be placed center stage. Someone else would get all the fame and he liked that just fine. Who was he to deserve any of what he got? It made him a freak even among his own kind anyway.

                Despite handling the party, Harry had no desire to leave his safe room for the following week and couldn’t be persuaded to even go to the ceremony to announce who would compete. He explained he’d had quite enough interaction for the rest of the year and he would not be coming out without a mask on anytime soon. His friends were frustrated, but they conceded, knowing that pushing him would lead to even more trouble. Draco opted to stay with him and the others went. They were in the middle of working on a potions essay when the door banged open, getting both the boys’ attention and the wary dog.

                “Harry…your name came out of the Goblet.”

                Harry blinked. “But that’s impossible. I didn’t put it in the goblet…I couldn’t, I’m too young. Besides, I’ve been here all week. Must be some mistake,” he said, waving his quill at his guardian.

                “Harry, you don’t understand, it doesn’t matter. It’s a magical contract. The others are Cedric Diggory, Fleur Delacroix, and Viktor Krum. Your name came out last. Minister Fudge is livid, convinced you somehow managed it,” he explained.

                Harry frowned. “But I didn’t! You know I didn’t!”

                Snape nodded. “I know, Padfoot hasn’t left your side, and I’ve got wards on the room that record those that come and go, and you haven’t left. The Headmaster is with Fudge, Crouch and the other school masters right now trying to figure it out. But you have to compete since your name came out it looks like. The Goblet of Fire is a magically binding contract…there is no way to refuse.”

                Harry paled. “But…but…I can’t even go into the hallway without…oh Merlin,” he said, passing out cold at the thought, dropping backward onto the bed.

                Draco looked at Snape and back to unconscious Harry. “Severus, he can’t do that! Someone else had to put his name in the bloody thing!”

                There was a knock at the door. Snape sighed and answered it, admitting Fudge, Crouch, and Dumbledore.

                “How did he do it?” asked the Minister.

                Snape shook his head. “He didn’t! I told you already. He’s been here for the entire week, the last time he left these rooms was when he was at the ceremony and Halloween party, and only then in mask so people didn’t know him. For Merlin’s sake, I just told him and he passed out!”

                Fudge glowered at him then moved to enter the room where Draco was trying to rouse him. A black dog growled at him menacingly. “Move, mutt,” the Minister said with a frown. The growling grew in volume.

                “Pad, move, please,” Snape said softly as the dog moved in to sit beside Harry. “But don’t go into his room, please, let him…”

                Snape growled under his breath as both Fudge and Crouch went into the room despite his protests. He cast a worried glance at Draco. He knew this would be bad. Harry only allowed his friends, and not even all of them, to enter his room. It was his safe haven. He knew he was completely safe there.

                Harry blinked blearily from the bed where he’d fallen. “Dray? I had the worst nightmare…”

                “Sorry, Harry, but the Minister wants to talk to you, no nightmare,” Draco said softly, helping him to sit up.

                Harry stared at the minister and his heart rate sped up, then his head snapped around to see another man in his room.

                “Get out!” he practically screamed. “No…no one comes in here, not even Severus, leave, leave, no…”

                “Harry, please, they just…” Draco said softly as Harry grabbed desperately at him, fisting his robes desperately, eyes flittering between the two men.

                “No, out of my room, you promised…” he yelled.

                Snape growled. “I told you not to go in his room, now get out or I’ll let Pad have at you, Minister or now. Sit at the table and wait for Harry to come out or leave.”

                Fudge and Crouch stalked out of the room, leaving a hyperventilating Harry and watched as Draco attempted to sooth him out of it. The dog put his head into his lap and whimpered at him. After a few minutes Harry could look up.

                “Take my name off, I don’t want anything to do with the stupid tournament!” he called to the men sitting in the next room.

                “Harry, come out here and talk with us, it is undignified to yell across the room like this,” Fudge said tightly.

                Draco nodded to him and together they moved out, Sirius on their heels. Sirius put himself under the table close to the interlopers, and Draco and Harry sat together next to Snape. Dumbledore took the remaining chair and waited.

                Fudge stared at the scared boy. What was he so scared of? Unknowing of the extent of the situation, he assumed the worst. The boy was guilty. He vaguely remembered something about signing off on his guardianship papers for Lucius, and something in the Prophet about his uncle being jailed, but honestly, he couldn’t keep up with everything that happened that didn’t pertain to him. So to him, the fear he was seeing was obvious, he glanced to Crouch with a knowing smirk.

                “You’re frightened. Are you afraid to reveal who you had put your name into the Goblet?” Crouch asked crassly. “If you didn’t do it yourself, someone put it in for you. Tell us who, and the punishment will be lesser for you.”

                Harry stared at him. “Are you kidding? I don’t talk to anyone but my friends and none of them would do something like that!” Harry tried desperately to hold the shaking that overcame him at the threat of punishment, his mind slipping into the punishments he was used to receiving.

                “The boy is obviously hiding something,” Crouch said to Fudge. “Give him the serum, and we’ll see how much he’s hiding.”

                Harry gaped, and looked over to Snape who actually looked angry. As angry as Snape ever could look behind his mask. “You’re kidding? You want to use veritaserum on the boy?” Snape asked.

                “Either that, or he’ll be hauled away and questioned at the Ministry, which is it?” Crouch demanded, looking at Fudge as though daring him to disagree. Fudge nodded.

                “Fine!” Harry said. Anything to keep him from leaving his rooms. Anything. “Just do it and get it over with,” he said, looking to Snape who nodded, retrieving the small vial.

                He moved over and dropped three drops on his tongue and they waited. Harry felt his head start to feel odd and his eyes took on a glazed quality.

                “Fine, let’s see. What’s your name?” Snape asked.

                “Harry James Potter,” Harry answered somewhat stiffly.

                “Did you put your name in the Goblet of Fire?” Fudge asked.

                Harry shook his head. “I did not.”

                “And did you have someone else put your name in the Goblet of Fire?”

                “I did not.”

                Crouch growled. “Did you want your name to come out of the Goblet?”

                “No. I have no interest in the Triwizard.”

                Snape was about to hand him the antidote when Crouch held up his hand. “Wait. Why aren’t you interested in the Triwizard?”

                Harry swallowed.   “It would mean being around the other students. I don’t want to leave my room. I’m safe here.”

                “You leave all the time for classes, why is this different?” he asked, and Harry tried to school his tongue but with the serum it told the absolute truth whether he wanted or not.

                “I do my classwork here. I don’t leave.”

                “Why in the world would you do that? And why are you allowed to do that?” Fudge asked, turning to look between Snape and Dumbledore.

                “I think that’s infringing on Mr. Potter’s personal life a little much,” Dumbledore said.

                “I can’t deal with people right now, I have panic attacks from too many people or someone touching me,” Harry provided, looking annoyed at his inability to keep his mouth from speaking.

                Draco caught the smirk curl at the corner of Crouch’s lips for a second. What was that about? “Why?”

                Snape was already up and uncorking the antidote for the serum, but Fudge glared at him. “Not yet. This may have some bearing on the situation.”

                “How? This is damaging to all the work that we’ve done with Harry, so stop and let me give him the antidote, you have your answers,” Snape said, and there was a low growling from under the table.

                “I have to agree with Professor Snape. Harry’s difficulties have no bearing, you’ve heard what you needed, he had nothing to do with his name going into the cup,” Dumbledore said.

                “But it may have something to do with the guilty party,” Fudge reasoned. “Answer, why, Mr. Potter?”

                Harry’s mouth worked to try to figure a way to tell but not tell at the same time but he couldn’t. “The abuse I suffered at my uncle’s hands and the two public encounters with photographs he released cause panic attacks now.”

                Draco couldn’t be sure, but the old git Crouch looked extremely pleased. “Really? And why would that make you have panic attacks? Doesn’t make sense. Many children are abused. And I’m sure there are plentiful photographs about the wizarding world’s boy-who-lived.”

                Harry stared at horror and when he tried to speak his voice cracked. Snape snarled. “Enough, I’m Harry’s guardian and I think you need to go, now,” he said, pulling Harry to his feet and giving him the antidote to the serum. He pushed him gently in the direction of his rooms and he could feel the boy already shaking. “Draco, go with him. Leave the door open.”

                Draco followed him and sat down beside him on the bed as he breathed heavily into the blonde’s robes. He was fighting the urge to cry and scream and release his magic at the two people in the other room. Sirius jumped up beside him.

                “Leave, now. And figure out how to get him out of this tournament, he’s not capable right now of such a thing,” Snape said, ushering all three men from the room. Dumbledore looked at him with a sympathetic glance as the door slammed.

                “Bloody ministry,” he muttered and headed to his fireplace, tossing the floo powder into it and calling out for Malfoy Manor and stepping through.

                He stepped out and saw Lucius sitting and reading, he looked up. “Severus, what brings you here?”

                “The Ministry is at it again. Harry’s name came out of the Goblet.”

                Lucius stood and blinked. “He’s one of the three competitors?”

                Snape shook his head. “No, he’s a fourth.”

                “That’s impossible, there are only three schools, that means…”

                “That means someone no only put his name in, they forged a fourth school to make sure his name was chosen. He of course didn’t have anything to do with it, he couldn’t, and was just put under the truth serum to tell Fudge and Crouch just that,” he said softly. “But Crouch, something’s going on. He seems to have it in for him, and kept trying to prod him into revealing things…hurtful and damaging things that have nothing to do with the Goblet,” Snape said, a snarl curling his lips as he thought of it.

                Lucius was quiet. “This leads more to my theory that Crouch is the one the muggle bastard was working with. I’m beginning to think he has some sort of twisted idea that Harry has to do with his son’s death…”

                Severus sighed. “There’s no way around it. It’s a binding magical contract. Harry will compete or he’ll lose his magic.”

                Lucius nodded. “I’ll come through. Do you think he’ll allow me?”

                Severus nodded. “I think so. Draco is seemingly the only thing that is holding him together right now.”

                “I’m still impressed with the fact my son could manage to comfort another individual,” he said, standing and heading to the fireplace.

                A moment later, they both stood in Snape’s rooms and saw that Draco and Harry were still entwined, sitting on the bed. Draco looked up and nodded to his father and nudged Harry. He looked up and saw that the elder Malfoy had arrived and nodded to him. Lucius stepped to the doorway to talk to him, but like Severus, didn’t step into the room. Harry appreciated the fact that the two men respected his boundary. So far, his godfather was the only person with free reign to come and go as he pleased. He was shaking slightly still and couldn’t even think straight, let alone come to any conclusions. The barriers he’d carefully erected in his mind were shaking, and that scared him.

                “Severus told me what’s happening. I’ll see if I can’t find out what’s happening from my end, Harry, but…there’s no way to break the magical contract. You’ll have to compete…or risk losing your magic as a result of not abiding by it. All you have to do is survive. And I know it won’t be easy, that’s why they want older students only,” he said softly.

                “Then…I think…Severus and Draco need to make a lot of calming draughts…” he said softly, looking with wide green eyes to him.

                “I do too, Harry,” Lucius said with a smile. “Draco, can we talk a minute?” he said to his son. Draco nodded and patted Harry’s leg as he got up and walked out.

               They moved into the sitting area where Harry was out of view and Lucius silenced the area around them. Draco looked at him curiously. His father had let his mask slip and there was a slightly bemused expression on his face that even his son rarely saw.

                “Father?” he asked.

                “Son, I just wanted to inquire about this…thing…you have with Harry,” he said softly, crossing his arms over his chest.

                Draco shook his head. “Thing? I don’t understand, Father,” he said with a frown.

                “Well, I’m particularly interested in finding if my only son has any plans for future heirs or if I need to start looking to a surrogate witch or a specialist in potions for male bearers,” he said without an expression on his face now.

                Draco felt a mad blush climb up his pale face as he slowly came to realize what his father was asking him. “Wh-what…Father!” he exclaimed.

                “Son, you know it is acceptable to have a male partner, but you will be required to provide an heir for the family one way or another, I just thought it would be wise to know if that was your preference now so I can prepare your mother for it. I suppose you could do worse than the supposed savior of the wizarding world,” he muttered.

                “Father I haven’t even thought of that! I’m just Harry’s friend, and I’m helping him get through this and…” but Draco couldn’t deny the red flush of his face. “Harry is _not_ ready for anything close to a relationship right now. He can’t even stand to have someone save his close friends touch him without flipping out!”

                Lucius rolled his eyes. “This may be…difficult if indeed the dark lord returns, but I suppose we’ll worry on that later. I would prefer a pureblood, but at least the Potter line is an old one, with links to Gryffindor himself so I suppose…”

                “Father I’m not marrying him bloody tomorrow!” Draco exclaimed, wondering where this was coming from. He knew that for the last year they’d been discussing the possible marriage contracts, the curse of the pureblood families. Started at thirteen, they began searching for a match that was both suitable in power and influence, and also bolstered reputation. But really!

                Lucius shook his head. “Can’t be too prepared, son, now I’ll leave you to your time.”

                The silence was canceled and Lucius flooed back to his manor. His father thought he liked Harry for Merlin’s sake! How could he come up with something that ridiculous? He was a nice looking bloke, and it was true that Draco had come to realize after snogging with Pansy that he had no interest in the female gender, but still. Who said he wanted to do anything like snogging Potter? Even though he thought it might be nice, he had such nice lips… Severus came around to find Draco red-faced and gaping.

                “You’ll catch flies, Draco. What was that about?” he asked, arching a black brow at him.

                Draco shook his head. “I…I’m going to bed.”

                He went to bid Harry good night and ruffled the dog on the head. Harry frowned at the expression on his face, and the blush that colored his cheeks, but he didn’t ask. It wasn’t like he was his keeper or anything. He figured he would tell him if there was something wrong. After he was gone, said dog shifted into the tall, dark haired man. Harry immediately found himself pulled into a tight hug, face buried in the ruffled white shirt and the cool leather of the long vest against his cheek.

                “Sirius, what am I going to do? I can’t do this!” he said, looking up at his godfather desperately.

                “You can, pup, you can,” Sirius said with a smile. “I know you can. And we’ll all be here for you, okay? Why don’t you sleep now. You look exhausted. Take a potion, or you’ll never rest,” he said and handed him a sleeping draught, not a dreamless sleep, just a draught.

                Harry was exhausted so he did just that. After he was asleep, Sirius exited and went to talk to Severus. He sighed and dropped into the sofa, spreading his human arms out and sprawling.

                The potion master looked up from his book with arched brows. “Must you sprawl every time you come out in your human form, mutt?”

                Sirius smirked. “Yes, you try running around like a dog twenty three hours a day and see if you don’t like to stretch your limbs out once in a while.”

                “I don’t like this, Lucius thinks that Crouch is up to something,” Severus said, putting the book in his lap.

                Sirius nodded. “I agree. Never liked the bastard. I mean, fucker sent me to Azkaban after all and still won’t do anything to clear my name. Now, the question is, what are we going to do about Harry and this tournament? He’s going to have to go through the trials, and it won’t be easy. And he’s going to have to stay awful close to the other competitors. I can’t stay with him all the time, however, because outside Hogwarts, my disguise won’t allow me to go where magical pets can’t go.”

                Snape nodded. “He’s not getting better either,” he said closing his eyes slowly.

                “I know,” Sirius answered. “He’s not getting through it, and I can tell his magic is doing something to him to keep him from dealing with it. What did the healer say? He was avoidant about it. And until he processed through it, he’s never going to really get better. And now we have this. This can’t be good on the healing process. What do the muggles call what it is, post traumatic stress disorder, syndrome, whatever? I’ve been looking at some psychology books.”

                “Never thought you’d read for anything you didn’t get a grade for, Black,” Severus snorted.

                Sirius glared at him. “I’ll do a lot for Harry. Something tells me you would too.”

                Snape sighed, running a hand through his hair. “Bloody hell, where did this all get messed up?”

                “What do you mean?” the animagus asked.

                “I mean, I’m sitting here, fretting over the child of my schoolyard rival like he were my own,” he said, rolling his eyes. “And not only that, I let _you_ of all people live here too. You’re almost as bad as Potter was.”

                Sirius snorted. “James had a way of pissing people off. He was just jealous of you, you know, you and Lily. He matured but never lost his fear of losing her to you,” he said flopping his head back on the couch and staring at the ceiling. “I told him he was a prat for holding a grudge like that, but after you and him got into it and you called her a mudblood, well, not much could be done.”

                He heard the man sigh deeply and resigned. “I know you didn’t mean it, Severus, when you called her that. James had a way of making the worst come out in people sometimes. I’m really quite glad Harry got Lily’s heart. Given time, she would have forgiven you.”

                “I begged him, you know,” Snape said, leaning back. “The dark lord. When I found out he was going after them. I begged him to spare her life for me.”

                Sirius picked his head up and stared at the man, who was looking away with a wistful expression. “My life was so messed up before Lily; she was the only thing to keep me sane, the only thing to look forward to every time I ran into her. She had her magic hating family, I had my abusive father,” he said sighing. “I was so young and I just wanted anyone to accept me. Turned out that’s just what the dark lord wanted. Maybe…maybe if I hadn’t called her that, maybe she would have stayed my friend, and I wouldn’t have taken the mark. And maybe, just maybe, he wouldn’t have found out about the prophecy and they’d still be alive.”

                Sirius found himself feeling sorry for the man before him. “We all did some stupid things. Like me trying to get you bit or mauled by Remus. That was just fucking stupid. Merlin that could have gone no worse…bad enough to deal with your best friend being a werewolf, but then to have that cocky stupidity that comes with youth. I saw it you know, so many times in Azkaban. Believe it or not, that was one of the worst memories that came up for me. Regret colors things in there. And thirteen years of it turns a lot of thoughts on their head.”

                Severus found himself nodding at Sirius. Truly surprised to hear him say those things. Had his stint in Azkaban changed him that much?

                “Did you love her?” Sirius asked softly. “I mean, like really love her? Would you have married her if it weren’t for James? And if you weren’t so painfully awkward at that age?”

                Snape shook his head. “As much as I’d like to say yes, no, I’d never have married Lily. She was my best friend, my sister in all but blood, but I never loved her like that.”

                “Really? I always assumed, and so did James, that you were after her romantically.”

                “It is important to have a romance with the proper sex. Unfortunately, my preference is not female,” Snape said, leaning back with a sigh.

                Sirius blinked and stared at him. “Really now? How come we never knew that?”

                Severus snorted. “Honestly, do you think I would have given Potter more ammunition?”

                “I think he might have left you alone if he knew you weren’t competition for Lily’s heart. You’d known her longer than him, so he was blinded by jealously. He couldn’t really harp on you for having a preference for men when two of his best friends were snogging in the locker room after Quidditch, now could he?” Sirius said with a half grin.

                Now it was Snape’s turn to gape. “What? You and Remus? Surely not that slimy rat…”

                “Oh heavens no, not Peter, ugh, don’t think that, Severus, really. Yes, Remus and I had a relationship for a while,” Sirius said softly. “We both ran both sides of that fence. Ha, sometimes at the same time… though he’d deny to his dying day. Whoever took our fancy, unlike James who only had eyes for Lily once he set them on her. No, Remus and I spent time together and with others. We were close, if you couldn’t tell by the fact I’m a giant black dog to his wolf.”

                “I guess we all made some bad choices and mistakes. And then I let it influence me on Harry, which I will never forgive myself for,” he said, glancing at his book.

                Sirius shrugged. “I think Harry has already forgiven you, I mean, the boy’s practically ready to snog Draco and if you gave him the chance he’s start calling you dad. So he’s come a long way from his Slytherin hating, Snape despising days, wouldn’t you say? Doing much better than any of us did at leaving prejudices behind.”

                “I think that is certain. The boy has Lily’s heart. I just wish…we’d gotten to him before…” he was breaking, right in front of Sirius, Snape felt his carefully crafted masks and world crumbling. “He deserved to be raised by you or Remus, or anyone who would love him. He had no childhood, shoved into a cupboard…the memories in that boy’s head, Sirius, you can’t imagine…”

                Without realizing it, Sirius moved closer to the man he once would have agreed wholeheartedly with his son was a “greasy haired git”. But now, as he saw the man, he realized that not only Severus had grown up, so had he. Thirteen years in Azkaban does that to a person, changes their perceptions. Sirius was lucky to have gotten out with his sanity in tact. Well somewhat intact, because James would tell him that he was completely mental for what he was about to do.

                “And if I’d…” Severus started, and looked up to see Sirius was kneeling beside his chair now.

                “What could you have done? Unless you were going to legilimens a child without permission, something that amounts to mind rape, how could you have known? Harry hid it well, even from me,” he said and put a hand on the man’s shoulder. “Harry told me about the hat, you know, wanting to put him in Slytherin but he wanted to stay with his new friends, and Draco hadn’t made a good impression on him. So no wonder he’s good at hiding things and lying about his own pain. Boy’s got a mess of Gryffindor bravery and self-sacrifice and a Slythern cunning and sneak.”

                Snape nodded, reaching up and putting his own hand on the one now on his shoulder. “I suppose making up for the past is the best place to start, right?” he said, looking over at the man who kneeled beside him. He was indeed looking at a man, not the boy who tormented him. The man before him had eyes that had seen a lot since those days, and they had lost as much as Severus himself had lost.

                “That’s the idea, Sev, that’s the idea,” Sirius said, and before he could rethink, overthink, or anything he slammed his mouth onto his school rival’s, sending both of Snape’s eyebrows directly into his hairline with shock.

                He didn’t know what to do but he reached out and grabbed Sirius’s head, hands carding through wavy black locks and when Sirius moved back he stared at him. He blinked dumbly until a half smirk graced the animagus’s lips.

                “Wh…what was that?” he said softly.

                “Making up for the past?” he said and lean forward to capture the man’s lips again, this time, earning his way into his mouth easily as his own hands grabbed black hair, which he found was soft and smelled of lavender.


End file.
